Dominance
by Angel Commando
Summary: Cyra Rovski knew she couldn't hide from it any more. Even with the war raging around her, with people living and dying. . . She stared into the mirror. She couldn't deny it any longer. She was infected. Slight AU, OC-centered. UNDER REVAMP. Prologue done.
1. Shattered Image: Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of the Resistance: Fall of Man franchise. . . I swear I didn't steal anything, and I don't plan to, so please don't let me be crushed under a Titan's melee attack. That causes instant death.

**Rating**: Currently the rating is a **T**. Rating may or may not be upped in later chapters.

**Notes**: Look! It's revamped. I'll get started on Chp. 1 tonight, as well. But hooray! I really, really like where I went with the new perspective, and it's likely I'm _all _done revamping the prologue. Hooray! So anyway. Read and enjoy!

* * *

_"It's so pitiful what you are,  
As beautiful as you are,  
You should have seen this coming all along._

_You're everything that's so typical -  
Maybe you're alone for a reason,  
You're the reason."_

10 Years - "_Beautiful._"

* * *

_I hate this dream_. I thought bitterly, relishing the few, brief moments of calm I was given. _No, it's not a dream. It's a freaking _nightmare.

The force that was suspending me dissipated, and I couldn't stop the scream that was wrenched from my throat was I fell. Down, down, down - until an ungodly torrent of wind snatched me up. Fear pulsed through me as the hurricane-force winds battered me around, flinging me one way, and then another. Nausea rose inside of me as I was tossed about like a rag doll, body tumbling over itself, and for a horrifying moment, I thought I was going to throw up. Though the feat was impossible, I somehow managed to clamp my hands over my mouth, and I wrenched my eyes shut.

_This nightmare is always the same. The winds toss me around, and I wake up right before I hit the ground_-

Right as the thought crossed my mind, I found myself being plummeted downwards, and I flinched, knowing that the ground was seconds away from me, and I was going to hit it, body fracturing into a million different pieces - my back impacted with the hard floor, knocking the wind out of me, and my body tumbled over itself, legs and arms smacking into it painfully. As I came to a stop, I laid there, wheezing air in and out in an attempt to orient myself again.

Time passed as the pain peaked and faded, and I finally got my breathing under control.

Wincing, I forced myself to get to my knees and look around, battling a sharp pang of fear. The nightmare had never done this before. Never. What was going to happen here?

As I took stock of my surroundings, I noticed that I was surrounded by darkness - yet I could see. It shouldn't have been possible, but it was. Even more strangely, I was somehow seated on an invisible floor. All around me, the shadows roiled, as if agitated by my very presence. Breathing in deeply, I tried to calm myself as I thought of what to do next. For all I knew, I would be imprisoned in this darkness forever.

_No,_ I thought harshly, _no time to think like that now. Calm down. Plan.  
_

Moving sounded like a really good course of action. I stood on shaky, pained legs, wincing as they threatened to buckle under her weight. The pain wasn't unbearable, but that was probably leftover adrenaline coursing through my veins. Taking a step forward, I tested my weight. Good. Next foot - okay._I can do this._ I began to walk, ignoring the fact that the darkness was the only thing that stretched around me, that it was the only stable certainty.

I would wake up soon. I knew it. I just had to burn time until then.

Walking, I found my echoing footsteps were my only companion. But it was okay. Just have to walk until I wake up, I thought to myself - and paused. A slight tremor rocked the ground beneath me, and I turned around, curious as to what it was.  
_  
__What the heck? _

A mirror loomed behind me, no more than ten feet away. I stared at it, confused and a little uneasy at its presence. The border of the mirror was an ordinary cut of some rich, dark wood, with no special engravings or anything significant about it. The mirror was a good six feet in length, easily towering over my small stature. Curious as to what the mirror was even doing there, I stepped closer, hoping that maybe it would hold a key to my waking up sooner. I was just about to examine the frame of the mirror when I noticed my reflection.

I was wearing. . . Outfits. Dresses, pants, shorts, tees - as I watched my reflection, my clothing morphed from one to the other. I looked down at myself, finding my own clothes acting the same way. Shaking my head, I looked back up at my reflection, and found there were. . . . Other things wrong with me. My hair was longer, and several shades darker than my natural color. My eyes, instead of being a dark green, were also morphing colors.

The expression of myself in the mirror was wide-eyed, and scared.

And she didn't look like me.

**Are you really sure that's not you?**

"I have scars," I said, voice croaking hoarsely in the darkness, "When I was seven, I fell off my bike and my face hit the curb. When I was ten, I cut my leg with a knife. You don't have any scars."

My reflection quirked her head, as though she didn't understand what I was saying. Fear pulsed inside of me, icy-cold and gut-wrenching. She didn't have any scars - but I did. I remembered those incidents. I had cried from pain and fear for hours, terrified of gauze wrappings and bandages and doctors looming over me.

**Blood and pain define you as human. But you aren't human, are you?**

The eyes of my reflection momentarily settled on green before flashing to molten gold. And she straightened, clothes disappearing from her body. I heard cracks, and watched as the muscles underneath her skin began to convulse. She grinned, revealing two pairs of pointed, white fangs.

"_Come closer,_" She whispered, beckoning me with a taloned finger, "_I want to see you. I want to snuff out the last bit of my humanity._"

"No-" I struggled to say, but found my throat tightened, and my voice withered away. In the glass, my reflection smiled, eyes narrowing.

"_It wasn't a choice. Now come. Here._"

I wanted to gasp as I felt myself moving, body making jerky movements as my feet moved me closer. My hearts started to beat faster, and I found panic racing through me. I didn't want to be near her. I didn't want that mirror anymore. I wanted to be rid of that golden-eyed monstrosity. Her lips split as she smiled, blood pulsing over the torn skin. I gagged.

I stopped directly in front of the mirror, still fighting the invisible hold on myself.

**There is no running from your fate.**

My reflection lifted her hands, and I echoed her movements. We placed our palms on the glass, and for a moment, I could only feel the cold of the pane.

But then it shattered, glass shards surrounding us as she stood there, naked body transforming to look so, so different. _She's not human. That's not me. I don't look like that. Oh god, please let me wake up. Please, please, please._

"No," She announced, stepping forward to embrace me. Her skin was hot, and felt feverish against my own, "No, I am you. Or, more specifically, you're me. You're one of the last ones - a piece of my humanity. . . And I'm going to kill you." She giggled as she said this, and I stood there, petrified.

She was holding me like a lover, tenderly, but readily confessed to wanting to murder me. _I don't understand. Why won't I wake up? Please, just let me wake up._

She pushed me then, and I fell against the floor - and gasped. She laughed above me, yanking out the piece of glass she'd just stabbed me with, and did it again.

And again.

I laid there, feeling my blood spilling over my skin, and felt that shard of glass impale me over and over again. My throat was working again, and I found I had enough energy to let out a weak, garbled scream. The golden-eyed girl above me laughed, as if it were just some joke to her. That killing me was the funniest thing she'd ever done.

"**Enough,**" A voice said, stilling her, "**. . . Look at this mess.**"

My head lolled to the side, and as my vision began to web over, blood loss and shock combining together, I swore I saw something that looked like a woman. Her shape changed, body and facial features reconstructing themselves. The girl above me said something, and the woman replied, but I was too far gone to care - or hear.

I just wanted to sleep now.

A gentle hand closed my eyes, and brushed down my cheek.

"**Rest now,**" The woman said, "**And rest in my embrace.**"

I surrendered myself to her voice, uncaring as to who - or what - she was.

I didn't care. She promised me peace.


	2. Sour Homecoming

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Resistance: Fall of Man franchise. For those with intentions of stealing: beware. You will be crushed under the Titan's melee attack, causing instant death. You have been warned.

**Rating**: M for mature. Mature themes will emerge later on in the story.

**Notes**: First of all, I apologize for the update delay. I got sick, and I was working on rewriting and writing it, and then a whole bunch of stuff popped up. . . Yeah. The past two weeks have been pretty topsy-turvy. Second off, I wanted to apologize for the lyrics that I threw down below me - I'm not a big fan of Daughtry, but I thought that their lyrics fit pretty okay. Now, all I have to worry about is making my chapters lengthy enough that it'll keep people reading! It's one of my pet peeves to have short chapters, y'know?

* * *

_Well I'm going home,  
Back to the place where I belong,  
And where your love has always been enough for me.  
I'm not running from.  
No, I think you got me all wrong.  
I don't regret this life I chose for me.  
But these places and these faces are getting old,  
So I'm going home.  
Well I'm going home._

"_Home_" -- Daughtry

_

* * *

_

I was _pissed. _

No, I was in a murderous rage!

There was no way that she could do this to me. If Mama thought that I was going to go along with this stupid plan of hers, she could forget about it! My rage turned to anger as I turned to my closet, ripping shirts off of hangars and throwing them into a large duffel bag. I was certain that a black scowl covered my features - and I wanted Mama to walk into my room, so she could see that scowl and how displeased I was. _Displeased _was an awfully light word to describe the horrible mood I was in. Growling, I snatched up another shirt and jammed it into the bag carelessly, practically wishing it would rip. If I didn't have any clothes, I wouldn't be forced to go!

It might have been summer break, but I was sure as hell not happy with the new development that had popped up. Not happy at all. As much as I adored to hit the road with Mama on summer vacation, I had a fondness for Seattle. I loved to stay in the city during the summertime and seeing what kind of tourist the tide managed to drag in. Besides, I had worked hard to ensure that I would be able to volunteer at the hospital over summer break, and suddenly changing plans like that wasn't going to let me get any brownie points over there. The entire basis of us relocating for the summer was based on silly superstitions and conspiracy theories! Huffing to myself, I carelessly chucked more clothing inside of the bag, not bothering to see what had already gone in, and what I needed. I paused when I realized I'd left my closet door open, and hanging on the door was an outfit that practically begged for me to wear it.

My scrubs hung there, innocently, pleading with my silently.

I felt like crying. I wanted to flop down on my bed and sob with the unfairness of it all. I loved volunteering at the hospital, adored every second I spent walking the well-worn halls. The patients had become an extended family to me, and the nurses there were well on their way to becoming my best friends. I had worked very hard to overcome any obstacles inside of me (like seeing blood for the first time, job shadowing in the ER and being shocked when something big happens) to be there - and I even had a pending examination with my career there, too. Soon I would be a certified nursing assistant. . . Or CNA, for short. Another year or two I would be old enough to take the damn test and finally get myself a part-time job at the hospital.

I trailed a hand over the course fabric that made the scrubs, admiring the texture. My badge gleamed in the late afternoon light, showing every wrinkled detail it had become. Oftentimes, when I was volunteering, I had a habit of fingering the badge and bending the corners when I was watching something or thinking. I often considered the little trooper to be "well loved."

Anger rising again, I slammed the closet door shut, leaving my beloved scrubs in the dark. Where I was going in a few short hours, there would be no need for scrubs. The small town we were about to drive to had no nearby hospital. If anyone got injured, they would have to drive for a good thirty miles until they reached something suitable. This summer, I had planned on hoarding some intense hours over in a gigantic Seattle hospital - but Mama had ripped that agenda to pieces pretty damn quick. She was relocating us to the foothills of Mt. Rainier - to a small town called Mineral. There, I was going to spend the rest of my summer vacation.

Seeing as I was only two days in, it felt like one hell of a jail penalty. And all because the buzz in Seattle was growing pretty heavy.

Stalking over to a small nightstand, I began to root through my jewelery box. Even if I was going to a small place like Mineral, I liked to wear pretty things. Like earrings. I had a deep fondness for anything sparkly.

I caught sight of my reflection, and I stared at the mirror hooked into the wall above my nightstand.

Moody green eyes stared back at me, framed by a face still losing baby fat. A scar rested on my face, a scar I hardly remembered getting nowadays. Unkempt brown hair hung down to my shoulders, unmanageable and plain. Since it was the weekend, I normally just bundled my hair back to keep it out of my way when I cleaned up the house and did chores and the like. I never really cared about my hair - twisting it into something pretty, into some other hairstyle than a ponytail made it an obstacle while I was volunteering at the hospital. The nurses on the unit had told me that a ponytail was the best way to go - so I had followed their advice.

At the tender age of fourteen (turning fifteen in three months), I was shorter than most girls my age, and I was chubby. Or fat. Mama often called me self conscious, and that I wasn't fat, but when it came down to it, I just called myself fat.

"Cyra? Are you ready to go yet?" Mama's voice called down the hallway, lilting and soft.

I glared at my reflection, watching anger dance across the green of my eyes. Choosing instead to cross my arms over my best, my answer was a "hmph!"

"No, I'm not ready, because I don't want to go." I snapped back, still angry with her. I heard a weary sigh, and then Mama stepped through the open doorway into my room.

I turned to face my mother, not wanting to deal with any arguments or compromises. She had wrecked my plans for the summer - so I was going to be stubborn and offer resistance. My mother - Meredith Rovski - was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She had delicate features, with a face framed by glossy hair that was often done up in some elegant design. It was deceiving, as most people didn't understand how angry that pretty face could get. She was still pretty sexy for her age (I think she hit forty this year), and even though she didn't notice it, I always thought it was funny how many heads she turned. Her eyes, however, were a mystery to me. Whereas I had a shade of green, she had an odd color of steely gray. Oftentimes I wondered if the green was even in our family - nobody on our side had it. Maybe it was my elusive father who had given them to me. . .

"Cyra," Mama's voice snapped me from my musings, "Nana would love to see the both of us. It's been a good four months since we've seen her last. I'm sorry that you can't volunteer at the hospital, but I want us to go to Nana this summer."

She crossed her arms over her chest and pinned me with the Look. Even in my childhood I had cringed away from it, as it spelled many hours of time out and being grounded.

Being as pissed off as I was, I just glared right back, uncaring of the consequences of a fight. I wanted out of going to Nana's house and being able to do what I wanted for this summer!

"The attitude has got to go." She told me sternly, the Look growing more intense. My glare deepened in response.

"I don't want to go, Mama! It isn't-" I began to snip, but I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from being stupid and going off on a tangent. The very last thing I needed was to get myself grounded over at Nana's house.

"We're going in roughly ten minutes. I suggest you continue packing." Her voice was frigid and stern, promising all sorts of punishment if I didn't go along with her.

Mama turned on her heel and left my room, leaving me to stew in my own juices. Closing my eyes and sighing, I tried to ditch the anger. I knew my mother very well - she was basically saying she was on her last straw, knock it off, and just go with the flow. I could understand all of that, I really could, but I was being selfish. I wanted to do what I wanted to do, and she wanted to drag me along to go see Nana.

I turned back to packing, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from muttering dark things. Sometimes that woman got on my nerves! Not only was she bossy, but she was my mother - which meant that I had to obey what she said. And even though I loved Nana and I wouldn't mind seeing her for a long while, I just didn't want to do it this summer. For the entire break. Seven miles away from the entrance to Mt. Rainier!

Done packing - finally - I snatched up a few more items and left my room, closing the door behind me. Taking a moment, I took a few deep breaths before I continued down the hallway of our small home. As soon as I got out of the front door and onto the lawn, I gulped in a few lungfuls of city air. Clogged with all sorts of wonderful chemicals harmful to your lungs, I swallowed it all down anyway - it was the air I'd grown up with for a good eleven years. Air I knew. Continuing on, I walked over to the car we owned, parked up on the curb - although I repeatedly begged it be parked somewhere else. We always had a lot of traffic on our street, and I feared that it would get scratched or bumped into, but Mama just smiled and told me not to worry too much about it.

Lugging my bloated bag out to the backseat of the car, I did my best to suck up the sounds of Seattle traffic. I heard ambulances blaring, police sirens ringing off in the distance, firetrucks racing around, horns honking - all familiar, comforting sounds. I'd gotten much more used to them than the countryside. It was just way too. . . quiet. Sometimes it creeped me out a little, when I was walking in the dark - to not be able to hear car horns or the buzz of the streetlights. . .

I heard the sound of keys jingling, and the unmistakeable sound of a front door closing. Why did it feel like it was shutting over something rather important? Maybe this was a death sentance after all. . . Purposefully I twisted my face into a sour expression right as Mama turned and looked at me. She stared at me for a good moment before a large smile spread over her face and she laughed. Bewildered, and pride slightly injured, I stared at her as she strode over the front lawn and to the driver's door. A car raced past us, wind buffeting us from the speeding vehicle. I stared at Mama in fear that she'd be hit, but she didn't seem to notice.

Muttering a few curses to myself, I climbed into the passenger side, settling myself in for a good two-hour long ride. It wasn't a bad chunk of time, seeing as I'd been driven around for days in this car before, but still. It was summer, I didn't want to go, and it was taking me somewhere where there wasn't going to be a hospital.

"Cyra, you looked like you were sucking a lemon." She said bluntly, another smile creeping up onto her face as she started the car and pulled away from the curb.

"Did not!" I protested vehemently, but this only made her laugh.

I pouted, feeling the anger draining out of me as I watched the roads of Seattle begin to pass by my window. I began to let go of the rage inside of me, seeing as it wasn't doing me any good being mad at the woman beside me. Granted, I wanted to jump onto the nearest bus and take it to the closest hospital so I could volunteer there, but this was life. Life was unfair. I was addicted to the hospital and everything it entailed, and just because Mama was taking me somewhere else for the time being didn't mean I had to go through withdrawal. . . As Mama always told me, it was better to show maturity than it was to be a child.

Besides, since I was going to Nana's house for a good chunk of time, I'd be able to see Trevor again. He was my best friend, and one of the rare few I called friends. We almost never fought, and I loved that boy to death. He and I had known each other ever since I'd come into this world, and we kept up with phone calls and emails. . . Along with instant messaging. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't talk to that boy. He was one of my faovrite people. . .

Bleah. Now I was sounding like I was in love with him.

We drove in silence for a time, my beloved city falling away to the suburbs and highway. I couldn't stand silence in the car next to Mama. It just wasn't natural. Normally we talked, or I tried to convince her to let me pick the radio station. I leaned forward, liking the idea of music, but as I scanned the local channels, I couldn't find anything I liked. Giving up, I flipped it onto a news broadcast, as they were my best friends in the entire universe. It told me if accidents had happened, and that told me how busy I should expect the ER to be if I chose to go there for the day. Most kids my age listened to "devil music" and rebelled, but I listened to news broadcasts. Funny, isn't it?

"_I don't know, Robert. The situation overseas is getting pretty bad. . . I mean, don't you think the pandemic could turn into something worse? Something global? The government is telling us it's not a pandemic, but the entire European country is overtaken with it! They even shut down all flights overseas. . . Nobody is allowed to get it or out. Safety precautions, they call it._"

"_You've got me, Frank. I don't really know what's going on at all. If I weren't here at this news station, I wouldn't know a single thing, that's for certain. I did hear this odd rumor, though. One of my friends lives over there in the UK, and I've been tryin' to call him, but he hasn't been picking up the phone for weeks. It's not like him, Frank. One of my relatives says it's because they're all in the hospitals._"

"_They sent the troops over there a while ago to help with the situation, Bob._"

"_Nobody has come back, yet, Frank! We've got nobody to interview for the time being._"

"Huh." I murmured, staring at the radio as if that would provide me with the answers I wanted. I almost wished that Robert and Frank were sitting in our car so I could talk with them about the weird "illness" spreading over in Europe.

"_Stock up on some food and water, folks. We're not sure if this thing is going to hit the shores of our beloved country. . . On top of all that, the military actually seems to be stirring here in Seattle-_"

Mama's hand flipped the radio dial, changing it to a music station. I turned to stare at her, curious, and received a glance in return. She smiled lightly, but I saw right through it - it was a tight-lipped smile, forced. . . She didn't really want to hear about the military.

"We're going to Nana's to forget about all that, okay? Everyone in Seattle is getting paranoid, and I'm half afraid somebody would attack you before you got to the bus."

"Can't really blame you. . ." I said, staring out the window once more. It was true. Throw a few paranoid people out onto the streets, and they might just manage to attack me before I got to the bus.

I knew why Mama had changed the radio station. It was because she was afraid of anything to do with the military. I knew very little about my biological father, but apparently he had been in the military, and after finding out that my mother was pregnant, he'd taken off. Mama never really talked about him much, and I preferred to keep it that way. I didn't know him, he didn't know me, and if I ever saw the bastard, I'd probably smack him a good one for ditching my mother like that.

After my Mama had been left, she'd moved in with Nana for a good three years after. I had been born out near Mt. Rainier, where I grew up in her household for a while. When I turned three, Mama moved back out and raised me on her own. I have to give her props - my Mama hasn't dated a single man in the whole eleven years I've been around. Probably afraid that the second one would leave her like the first one.

All throughout my childhood, though, Mama and I spent weeks to months at a time at Nana's house. It was my second home.

"Nana will be glad to see you again anyway. And I'm sure you and Trevor can do all sorts of things together again." She continued, probably to get my mind off of the radio broadcast.

People everywhere were terrified that this flu virus was going to come over to America. I couldn't blame them, although I wasn't necessarily worried about it. I worked in a hospital, so I got whatever sicknesses were floating around through there. Getting sick was nothing to get too worked up over. Besides, for a perfectly healthy body, you needed to get sick anyway.

Some folks, however, were assured that since the president had come on TV several times to reassure them, that it really was the end of the world and to panic. The reason? The US had sent some troops over to the UK, and so that alerted people to something else going on behind the scenes. Something sounded off about the entire situation to me, but I didn't really probe the matter myself. After all, I was here on the west coast, not over in Britain, and I had nobody to talk to.

All I had were the overused conspiracy theories floating around.

"I don't mind seeing Trevor again." I replied, pulling myself out of my thoughts.

Mama laughed, "Of course. I wouldn't be surprised if you two turned out to be sweethearts."

"What?!" I shot up in my seat, feeling the seatbelt cut over my chest and throat. This only made her giggle.

"Mama, don't even say stuff like that! We're not like that at all! Trevor and I don't do that kind of stuff!"

I paused, choking on my words, and felt mortification rise up in me. The way I was putting it, it almost made me sound like Trevor and I were having sex.

She laughed again, "Don't be so defensive, Cyra. . . Or do you have a secret crush on your childhood sweetheart?"

"MAMA!"

* * *

A jolt woke me up, bouncing me roughly in the seat I was in. I opened my eyes blearily, unaware of when I had fallen asleep. Yawning as I sat up, I found we were driving along the long bumpy road that was Nana's driveway. Oh. Apparently I'd just woken up in time! Busying myself, I ran hands over my clothes and hair to make sure I was presentable, while Mama seemed to visibly relax in the seat next to me. Nana and Mama loved each other very much, and them being together was always a good together. . . To Mama, spending time with Nana was like a good dose of medicine. It helped her relax from the stresses of raising me and her life.

We pulled up to a small house, resembling a trailer home. A garden was spread all around the house, flowers speckling the house with shades of yellow and red. Nana had four acres of woods in her backyard, leading to more forest. The car pulled to a stop, and barking began as I opened my door. A full grown golden lab bounced out of the backyard, tail wagging as she approached the door. I grinned as I bent out, no longer feeling groggy. I cooed to the over sized puppy, rubbing her head affectionately, loving every bit of her. Katie had been my Nana's pet for well over six years now.

"Hey baby!" I cooed, "I missed you, Katie, you overgrown puppy."

The dog was having something akin to a seizure as she went about licking any place of me she could reach. Her tail was wagging so hard that her entire back end was moving. I couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up inside of me, as Katie was just as I remembered her. So was Nana's house - it looked serene as ever. As I stepped out of the car with my bloated duffel bag, I took in a deep breath of country air. I could feel it moving down my lungs and cleaning all of the smog and exhaust I'd built up in my body. Suddenly I couldn't remember why I'd been so mad to relocate myself here. It was relaxing here.

"Now, where is that mother of mine?" Mama's voice dragged me back to reality, and I turned back to the car to face her, Katie weaving around my legs in an attempt to knock me over.

As if on cue, I heard the metal screen door squeaking open, flimsy springs struggling to stretch. Footsteps creaked on the wooden porch, door slamming shut behind her. Nana stood there in all of her elderly woman glory.

"Katie, get over here, you silly dog!" Nana called, voice just as soft as Mama's, but twice as gentle.

Katie instantly perked up and trotted over to her, tail wagging madly still. I shuffled around the side of the car and towards Nana, a smile lighting up my face. Hers did the same. Nana had brown hair speckled with gray, curling slightly, and it framed a winkled and kind face. Brown eyes stared out at me through glasses, fitting her elderly-woman look. She was chubby, wore clothes most old ladies wore, but damn if this Nana of mine didn't know how to cook!

I skipped over to her happily, throwing my arms around her for a bear hug. She had difficulty imitating the feat, as the huge back across my back was like a turtle shell. As she squeezed me with a strength deceiving of her looks, I inhaled her scent. Sugar, cake batter, and more sugar - just like I remembered her. I was glad that she was here, hugging me and still alive. Nana had been a part of my life for a very long time, and I didn't want her to depart from it while I was still so young.

"My, my, Cyra. You've grown in four months, haven't you?" She chuckled lightly, "You'll be taller than me, soon."

"I already am, Nana."

"No, you aren't. Not yet at least." She patted my hand as I extricated myself from her, and I smiled, amused. Just as Mama had age issues (she always claimed she was thirty-five), Nana had height issues.

"Oh, mother. You'll always be short." Mama intoned, coming to stand beside me. I stepped aside to let Mama hug Nana.

"Look at you, Meredith. . ." Nana murmured as she hugged Mama, "You've been running yourself into the ground again, haven't you? Are you trying to put me in an early grave with worry?"

"It's not intentional, I assure you, mother."

"Intentionally, maybe not. But your subconscious is telling you to bury me six feet under! Come on now, you two. Let's go inside and get settled in."

Katie bounced around our feet as we headed up the four stairs onto the porch. The door squeaked loudly as we entered Nana's house, and another grin plastered itself onto my face. Just as I remembered everything. Treats and sweets spread around every surface, some of them store-bought, and others made. Nana was addicted to sugar - as much as a hummingbird, I was certain. Speaking of hummingbirds, her house was abuzz with them. Feeders hung from just about every hook, and what seemed like hundreds of the beautiful things were zipping around.

I looked around, almost expecting Trevor to be lounging on the huge couch, waiting to greet us. He wasn't there, but that was okay. My friend was sure to enter the picture sometime or another, but until then, that couch was mine to lay down and unwind on. Things didn't seem so bad anymore. I could head on up to Mineral in a day or two and sit around the lake for a day. Maybe go swimming if the lake wasn't too cold.

I threw my bag down on the floor as I settled onto a piece of furniture. The TV was playing some random movie, looking to be an action flick. Nana wasn't your average grandmother, that was for certain. Mama was going to claim the absolutely minuscule room that made up the guest bedroom. There was a cot with a blanket, along with a bookcase (don't ask me how the hell it fit in there, or how it even managed to get inside of the room) and an even smaller closet. It tended to a get a little stuffy in there, but luckily there was a window right near the bed. If that didn't cut it, then we'd move a small fan into the room so anybody in there wouldn't die of heat stroke.

Katie wedged her way onto the couch beside me, tail hitting me in the hip repeatedly. I gave her a few absent pats on the head as I watched the movie, trying to get my muscles to relax. I still felt tense - it was probably sleeping for half of the car ride over here, cramped up on a small carseat. Nana and Mama talked amiably next to me, and this only made more amusement strike me. They talked on the phone every night, but they always gossiped like a pair of old hens when they were together. Honestly, it seemed like they never saw each other with the way that they acted.

". . . we came out here, mom." Mama's voice finally cut into my attention, pulling me away from the movie. The tone she was using was odd. Stressed.

"I don't blame you, dearie. This illness over in Europe is a scary thing to think about. Did you know that Susie isn't picking up the phone?"

"What? You mean Susan Goodrich?"

"Yes. She lives in London. I've tried to call her, but she never picks up. About two weeks ago, the phone company told me her number was no longer available."

"We heard something like that on the way over here, mom. Nobody over there is picking up the phone anymore."

"How very odd. . . It makes me think something else is going on over there. Well. Enough of this depressing chatter. Let's have some dinner!"

I sat on the couch, weighed down by an over sized puppy that believed itself to be a lapdog. Nana shuffled into the kitchen, where I heard pots and pans banging about, but I hardly heard them. I was thinking. I remember Nana telling me how much Susan Goodrich meant to her - a friend she'd had for life. I had talked to Susan once over the phone, and she had seemed like a very nice old lady. Why she hadn't been returning my Nana's calls must have meant something. And then the fact that the phone company up and told Nana that her number was no longer available. . . That was a big thing.

More conpsiracy theories tumbled through my mind, and I let them toss around my head as I rubbed Katie's muzzle. Thinking about the matter wasn't going to get me anywhere, but I couldn't help myself. The government had gone over there, the illness had shut down the borders of the entire European continent, and now the phones were beginning to get disconnected. . . Was this the start of a much bigger problem? Possibly. Was whatever the hell it was going to come over here? Nobody knew. It only left us with time to guess and wait, partly in fear, and partly in paranoia.

"Cyra, come into the kitchen. Hope you don't mind some chicken tonight."

"Coming, Nana." I called back, shooing Katie off of my lap. The dog moved groggily, sitting at the foot of the couch with a grumpy flop. I walked into the kitchen, and was instantly assaulted by the aroma of baked chicken and rice. I got a plate for myself, and moved back out into the living room with Nana and Mama. They continued to chatter while I stared at the TV absently, I sense of peace creeping up inside of me.

Being at Nana's house was a good thing. If anything, I was happy to be here again. My mother's transgression would be forgiven sooner or later. . . Leaving me here while she returned to Seattle? I could forgive that. Besides, she had to work. I had a summer break to enjoy, and regardless of whether or not it had gotten off to a rocky start, it was flowing smoothly along now. I could use this break. . .

Besides. Even I couldn't handle the adrenalin rush of a hospital all the time.


	3. Sunny Days

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Disclaimer:

I do not own the Resistance: Fall of Man franchise. For those with intentions of stealing: beware. You will be crushed under the Titan's melee attack, causing instant death. You have been warned.

**Rating**: M for mature. Mature themes will emerge later on in the story. ( Currently the rating has been knocked down to T.)

**Notes**: The third chapter, presented to you in full. I hope that you guys are enjoying reading this, because it really is fun to write this story. I can promise you that when the action starts, it's not going to stop. Bam bam bam - quick as a flash, and then the story shall be finished! Hehe. Don't be afraid to drop me a PM or anything - I may be lazy, but just poke me with a stick and I'll be happy to reply. It takes a while for me to get motivated, specially with it being summer and all. . . You know? Oh, and for those who didn't watch E3, I apologize. You guys missed out on some really awesome stuff heading our way. So look it up now! Gogogo!

* * *

"_Summer has come and passed,  
The innocent can never last.  
Wake me up when September ends. _

_Like my father's come to pass,  
Seven years has gone so fast  
Wake me up when September ends._

Here comes the rain again  
Falling from the stars  
Drenched in my pain again  
Becoming who we are."

Wake Me Up When September Ends - Green Day

* * *

I hummed to myself as I peeled my shirt off, bra quickly following. I was also quick to shed my shorts and underwear, and then I was free of clothing. I reached over and grabbed my swimsuit, beginning to slip it on when I heard footsteps in the hall. I turned to the noise, body still moving as I pulled the cold outfit up. I heard voices - a distinctly male voice. The doorknob to the guest room twisted, and the door opened - a distinctly male person barging in while I was still half-dressed. I stared at the intruder, blinking, shock keeping me rooted to the spot. I held my swimsuit to my chest, fingers numbly latched onto the shoulder straps.

Trevor stood there, doorknob still held in hand, blinking at me.

His gaze went down to my chest.

My cheeks flushed, and one of my hands went to the cot, where my shoes had been laid. They were a heavy rubber kind of flipflops. They had a thick sole, with gel-bumps all along the inside of the foot.

"Trevor," I said, my voice deceptively calm. His eyes came back up to my face.

The flipflop connected with his forehead, a heavy _smack _resounding from his skin.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" I screeched, arm snapping up the other flipflop and chucking it at him. He gave a little gasp, and then scrambled to get out of there, shutting the door behind him with a heavy slam.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He chanted, moving away from the door frame. I jerked on the swimsuit, tossed a shirt over my head, and snatched the flipflop off of the floor.

"You'd _better _be sorry!" I hissed, my tone black and menacing. I wanted to kill him. A moment of silence passed, in which I thought Trevor had finally moved away and taken off to the living room.

"You're kinda small." He suddenly piped up, and utter fury raged inside of me.

With a screech of rage, I threw myself against the door and ripped it open, the flipflop in my hand again. I proceeded to beat him with it.

"YOU PERVERT! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

He scurried out, my flipflop connected with his back one final time before the screen door shut. Nana was laughing on the couch, Mama just regarded me with a lazy gaze.

"Please don't be so loud." She murmured, eyes returning to the TV.

Oh, _Mama._Alder Lake stretched out before me, water glittering and filled with people. A wide border, made of chained-up logs, stretched around the perimeter of the water. It was designed to keep the swimming area cordoned off from the jet skiers and boaters. To me, the presence of the machinery was an oddity - obviously we were suffering from tourists. It was the unspoken law of all locals that Alder Lake was meant for human bodies only.

And pets, as many people chose to let their animal companions swim alongside them.

I stretched, a grin on my lips as I flicked my sunglasses up into my hair. I had to squint as the bright light assaulted my eyes, but I didn't mind. It was what I loved about coming out to Nana's house - it allowed me to relive childhood memories. Back in the day, she always tried to get me to go to the lake on hot, sunny days with a friend or two in tow. Normally it was always Trevor who was roped into the whole mess - like today. Since he had decided to make such a horrible comment on my body, it was his punishment to carry the cooler and chairs. I had the bag containing the towels and sunblock, along with some sandcastle gear (in my opinion, _nobody _was too old to make a sandcastle). The sound of huffing and puffing alerted me that Trevor had managed to catch up with me. I turned to regard him as he set all of the stuff down, and directed a halfhearted glare his way.

He gave me a sheepish smile, and wore the expression of a puppy. In his own way, he was trying to get me to forgive him. I had seen many a girl at his school fall prey to his childlike charms, and while they might've swooned, I simply glared. I'd been exposed to Trevor's antics over the years - I knew what he was trying to pull. It was a guilt trip. Was I going to fell guilty for pegging his ass with a flipflop?

Hell no!

As far as it went, Trevor had the appearance of a kid. He had rust-colored hair, always unkempt and unmanageable. In the summertime, he'd get it buzzed because he didn't want to deal with it. Trevor was also tall, and due to hours of football practice and gym, he wasn't nearly as pudgy as I was. Add to the fact that I was naturally small, while he was almost six feet, and we looked like polar opposites. I had green eyes, he had brown eyes, I was short, he was tall, I had mood swings, and he was pretty level-headed. . . The list went on.  
Not to mention our families!

He had a father, a laid back one at that, who didn't care what his child did so long as he were truthful, responsible, and concentrating on his education. As Trevor was an only child, he got a lot of attention from both his father and mother. . . In every way, I suppose, it would suffice to call Trevor the perfect poster child for a perfect family. He did good in school naturally, while I struggled to maintain grades in math and science. The only advantage I had over him was my nursing and knowledge of anatomy. _Haha!_ Some part of my mind crowed.

"Don't you love me anymore, Cyra?" He pleaded, tone sounding nothing short of adorable and pouting.

"No," I growled at him, "Now get your ass down to the water before I kick it there."

An expression of mock hurt played over Trevor's features. He even went so far as to give a fake sniffle as he shuffled down towards the water, looking very much like a puppy that had been kicked. I was glad. If he was a puppy, I probably would have thrown him in the garbage can and slapped the lid down. . . Haha. . . Not really. I loved dogs. Katie was a fine example of that.

An aggravated sigh left me as I shoved his shoulder while I walked in front of him. He didn't so much as stumble, but he gave a good show of looking like he did. Good god - this kid was a horrible actor! While I was here, we'd have to work on those skills. . .

Then we were at the water, and he paused at the edge, staring out at the packed lake. Turning back to me, I returned his gaze as he blinked at me. Lucky thing too, as he didn't seem to realize the few girls that had noticed the football player standing there. They were whispering and giggling - already? - and I swore that I could hear their voices over the water: _he's so hot! . . . Oh, look at that cutie. . . We should go talk to him. . . Ask him out. . .  
_  
Haha. No.

Any girl who wanted to date Trevor had to go through me first. While I didn't love Trevor that way, I wanted to make sure the girl he did pick out wasn't a bitch or anything like that. After they passed _my _rigid background inspection, they could date him.

"Time to go in!" He chirped, bringing my attention back to him. Before I could so much as blink, he turned and dashed off into the water, running in and jumping as he waded up to his hips. Then my friend did the craziest thing he'd ever done in his life - he just flopped right in.

Now, I could be crazy if I wanted to - really. I could. I wasn't _all _devoid of humor.

But what Trevor had achieved came from years of living in the frigid state of Washington. It was my longstanding philosophy that sooner or later, all locals had their blood turned to ice to deal with the freezing water and cold winters. Trevor, I guess, must have finally made the switch to frozen blood.

The seconds ticked by and I stood there, staring out at the lake water. He hadn't surfaced yet, but I wasn't worried. Trevor was a great swimmer. He'd been taught by his family and my Nana. We both had learned together. But I could not stop the worries that suddenly began to lick at my insides. People frolicking in the lake often kicked up rocks that were lodged in the mud. I had stubbed my toes on them many times. What if my numb skull of a friend had managed to smack himself on the head with said rock? Working in the hospital, I knew the dangers of people drowning. I knew what happened, step-by-step, in great detail. I had seen a waterlogged person come into the ER room once while I had been job shadowing. They had not managed to bring them back.

Still, I stood there and waited. I knew that any second, he was going to break the surface and grin some silly grin at me. But as the seconds ticked by, I didn't see him. That grin wasn't there. More worry began to creep through me, until my heart was racing, my mind was spinning, and my hands felt clammy.

Quick as a flash, I kicked off everything I was wearing, dropping it all on the sand in an untidy heap. I rushed into the water, just barely managing to keep myself from screaming his name in worry. Cold water lapped at my legs as I waded in as fast as I could go. Holy shit! I'd get used to the water, yeah, but it felt freezing on my skin.

I went in deeper, looking around for Trevor, but unable to find him. Was his body somewhere below the surface of the lake? Had he really hit his head? And then I saw him, laying there on the bottom. I was in at my hips, freezing my ass off, but he was there. And he wasn't moving. As I bent over to go under and retrieve him, he suddenly came to life, surging up and scaring me half to death. I literally screamed, stumbling backwards as he grabbed onto me and tried to prevent me falling over. Then we stood before each other, and he was there, laughing, hair plastered all over his face.

I glared. If I had been mad about Mama dragging me out here to leave me, this elicited utter _fury.  
_  
"_Trevor!_" I snarled, my hands ripping his off of me. Before I had even registered the need, I cocked my hand back and punched him, hard, on the arm. I threw my entire shoulder into it, too.

He was still laughing, but his face with tinged with pain, and he was holding his arm, going "ow, ow, ow" between his giggles. I gnashed my teeth together as I glared at him, unafraid to mask my black rage. Playing around with stuff like that wasn't funny. It was a dangerous! Did that diptard realize that? He must have picked out my murderously angry rage, as Trevor finally stopped laughing. He stared at me, another sheepish expression on his face. Nobody in the lake had even noticed that my idiot of a friend had scared me half to death, or that he could've drowned! I felt like snapping some necks.

"Aw, Cyra, I'm sorry." He was sincere, I could tell, but his apology did not assuage my rage. I glared at him, harder, narrowing my eyes.

"You could have _drowned_, Trevor!" I snapped, voice carrying over the water and raising a few octaves. A few of the people around us turned and stared, but quickly resumed their play when I turned my glare to them. In public or not, I was going to ream Trevor a new asshole for what he'd done!

"You know I was playing. And I wouldn't have drowned - honest! I'm not that stupid to stay under the water when I need air."

He shuffled forward, closing the small space between us and giving me a one arm please-forgive-me-hug. It was tenative and gentle, as if I was going to cock back and sock him a good one again. It seemed like a good idea, too. I totally should have done it. Slugged him a hundred more times in the same spot I've nailed my first punch. Trevor, again, either sensed my want to do violence or the black anger inside of me, for he turned away a little, but he stayed there by my side. I mentally gave him some respect points - I wouldn't have wanted my friend to punch me a hundred times, either.

I opened my mouth, crossing my arms over my chest again, trying to be mad - but there was freezing water lapping around my hips, chilling my skin. Instantly I was reminded that my body was not used to the water, and it would take me a few minutes to get used to it. Right then and there, I wanted to jump out and never go back in. Especially with Trevor in the water. The idiot hugging me was probably already used to it.

He tightened his hug and added another arm, confident now that I wasn't going to beat him black and blue.

"Cyyyyrrraaaa. . . You know I love you." He whined. My glare turned to a murderous stare, and I sighed again. He didn't mean it actually - we always told each other that we loved each other. It had started one day and just continued on from that. I, personally, never thought Trevor and I would ever actually swing that way. We'd known each other for too long (although physical get-together were often sporadic and short), and it would have just been. . . Weird.

I turned to face him, shaking his arms off, and replaced them with m own. I placed my hands on his shoulders, and Trevor openly blinked, confusion playing over his face. Then he was a little scared - especially when a smile stretched over my lips as I laughed.

"Of _course _I forgive you, you idiot." I patted his shoulders for emphasis, squeezed the muscles there - and through some sort of insight, Trevor understood what I was planning on doing. He tried to backpedal to get away from me, but I was too quick.

I jumped on him, using his shoulders as a spring pad. I forced all of my weight on the football player, and his balance was lost within seconds. He let out a startled yelp, his arms whirling around uselessly. We headed for the water, Trevor falling on his back, and I laughed like a maniac. _Suffer!_My mind giggled, glad to have the upper hand. The water closed over my back, and silence descended. I opened my eyes - but I should've kept them shut. There was nothing to see. The water might have looked clear, but it was murky underneath. I remained on top of Trevor, settled over his chest, and another laugh bubbled up from me. My lungs cried out for air as I opened my mouth, and I detached from my friend to go topside.  
He followed closely after, curses spewing from him as he stood back up.

"Goddamn it!" He hissed, suddenly irritated. He slapped the water with his hand, hard, spraying me with bits of water droplets. I stood back, hands on my hips, a smug expression on my face. He didn't like dirty tricks now, did he?

He lifted a hand and ran his fingers through his hair, but when he pulled it away, there was blood.

Instantly my demeanor changed.

Noticing my expression, he dipped his hand in the water, swishing it around to get the blood off.

"Don't worry about it," He said, his voice gruff. He shook his hand to dislodge the water (a useless gesture, in my opinion). Instantly, I was guilty. I felt terrible - no, beyond terrible. My stunt _had _caused him to hit his head on a rock. Jesus! How could I have been so stupid? My fear had actually come to life, and I had been the leading cause of it.

I stepped up to him, biting my lip, lifting my hands to inspect the wound. Trevor paused as he stared at my face, and then sighed as he stood there and let me go into my self-assessment mode. I lifted my hands to his head and ran them over his scalp gently, probing for the wound. I eventually found it on the right side of his head, above his ear, and it didn't look serious. It was bleeding lightly, but this only made me wary. Most head wounds bled unporportionally to the actual injury itself. Disregarding the feel of his blood, I inspected the broken skin. Nothing lodged inside of it, nothing looking really wrong. . .

He hissed as I touched it gingerly, and I pulled back, washing my own hands in Alder Lake.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, staring at my reflection and unable to look up at him.

Some friend I was - bashing my best friend's head into a rock. . .

There was silence with Trevor, and that only made my stomach drop. Trevor never got silent unless he was really, really angry. And that normally entailed him glaring death at somebody (normally anyone who was an outright asshole). Before I knew what happened, however, hands wrapped around my waist and picked me clean up off of my feet like I weighed nothing. My wet hair went flying into my face, and I instantly clung onto Trevor's back, fearing for my life. My fingers dug into his skin.

"Don't drop me!" I screeched, clinging as best as I could to the large shoulder I was dangling off of. He laughed, cheerful and giddy - back to his old self again. That only made me want to cling harder.

"Please don't break my skin!" He chirped happily, as though my fingernails gripping his skin didn't hurt at all. He moved, walking in deeper, up to his stomach, I thought.  
I knew what was going to come through insight, like what Trevor had used before. I could feel my friend's muscles tensing underneath me, and his grip on my body changed. He was going to chuck me off and into the lake, into the deeper part. I would have died rather than be thrown off of his shoulder like some rag doll. However, my puny strength was no match for his football training. He broke my grip easily, and then I was spinning. It was like I some human-sized discus, and when I thought I was going to be sick, there was nothing but air. My body froze up - until I hit the water.

Instantly jerking back to life, I thrashed back to the surface, disoriented to and confused. I was no longer able to stand on the bottom. The bastard had thrown me in! He had thrown me in as though I weighed nothing!

After a moment of orientating myself, I found Trevor was swimming towards me. Paling, I instantly feared what he would try to do next. I hightailed it, heading straight towards the log perimeter. I was a good swimmer, but Trevor was in better shape than I, and he gained on me with every stroke. Oooh, Jesus. I didn't want Trevor to catch me! The water grew even colder the further out I got (as if that was a possibility), but I remained strong and determined. I'd get to the logs first!

As soon as I did get there, I hoisted myself up onto the first log, sitting, and then moving into a standing position. It was hard to do with the other swimmers shaking the other logs, but I somehow managed. Not moments later, Trevor managed to get his waterlogged butt up onto the same log as mine. We made eye contact, and for a moment we just stared at each other - but then I started laughing. The expression on his face was too much. I couldn't take him seriously. I must've been funny to him as well, as I sat back down again and we both laughed, so hard that my sides ached.

These were the memories that I treasured. Memories like this. It reminded me of he childhood that I had spent running around, exploring nooks and crannies and trees and uncaring about the troubles of the world.

"Oh, god. You have wood chunks in your hair." He said on a sigh as he wiped away some stray tears. As I lifted my hand to investigate, I found he was right. I chucked it back into the lake.

"You have algae in yours." I replied back. He found it, and instantly squished it between his fingers.

"Holy. . . That stuff is gross." He disposed of it in much the same manner as I did, and then we simply sat there.

I was growing bored of sitting on the log after minutes had passed, so I heaved a sigh and leaned back, legs wrapping around the log to keep my balance.

"So we're going to South Hill tomorrow?" I asked, and Trevor nodded his head.

"Yeah-up. Your mom's leaving tonight, so we're going tomorrow to do some grocery shopping. . . I think Nana's taking us to see a movie, too."

A week had sure as hell flew by pretty damn fast.

I scowled at the mention of my Mama leaving. Me going to the lake today was Trevor's idea of a little pick-me-up, so I didn't feel like she was exactly _ditching _me here. I didn't want to remember that my Mama was leaving today, and besides, everything that had been going on at the lake had been pretty awesome (minus the mention of Trevor almost drowning) so far! Sighing, I bit the inside of my cheek and then stared at my friend.

He opened his mouth to say something about the situation - I was certain of it - but I didn't give him the time. Trevor was too capable of reading me like a book, and I didn't want him to openly admit that I was being selfish or something to that a I lifted my hand and slapped the water, showering him with droplets. Quickly, I dismounted the log and pushed off of it, gliding back into the freezing lake. I was glad that I had managed to distract my friend and I from everything surrounding the Mama-leaving-me-here-issue. I made a beeling for the shore, trying hard not to laugh as Trevor entered the water not but moments later. I was getting tired of the energy expended, and he was gaining - GOD! I was so fat! I couldn't even make a lap to and from the perimeter of the lake (with a break included) without getting tired halfway through.

Right as I was about to reach the part where I could stand on my tip-toes, Trevor's arm latched around my waist, and I found myself uncerimoniously hoisted up onto his shoulder again. Damn him for being taller than me! Damn him to hell!

Terrified of being tossed back into the water, I clutched even harder this time, threatening to unleash rage upon his backside should he attempt to toss me about. He just laughed as he stood there, unmoving.

"Let me down!" I screeched, voice mixing with all the other children yelling and screaming. Trevor laughed.

"Nope!" I kicked and struggled, but once more, I was no match for the football player in him. He ate guys my size for breakfast, so it came as no surprise, really, but it was still frustrating as all hell.

"Say you love me!" He singsoned, spinning around. I let out a terrified squeak.

"Trevor, put me down!"

"First you gotta say you love me!" He continued, dipping and turning and throwing me all about. I was either going to get sick, or fall off of his shoulder - whichever came first.

"Trevor!" I snapped, halfheartedly, clutching at him to keep my wet body from slipping off of his.

His laughter echoed around the air.

* * *

I stared out the window of Trevor's old truck, feeling kind of. . . sullen. I had no doubt that Mama was already packing up to leave, leaving me here in the process. What would have made the entire thing half-tolerable is if I had a job and a car of my own - but no. I was too young, diver's education was too expensive, and I had to wait another year to work. Bleack. Being a teenager in life sucked hardcore sometimes - I will shit you not.

The sky was darkening, the sun already disappearing rapidly and leaving everything casting shadows over the land. We pulled up in Nana's driveway - and no surprise, my Mama was loading up the car. Katie bounded about as we got out of Trevor's truck, and my friend bent over and picked the dog right up off her feet.  
It was his version of petting her.

I meandered over to the car, finding Mama had already shoved everything back into the vehicle, and Nana had already bid her goodbye. That left only Trevor and I to depart with her. I gave my Mama a half-hearted pout, in which she responded to me with a smile. Despite my being dirty and covered in lake water, she strode over to me and wrapped me in a tight hug. It took a moment for the realization to wash over me, but then I realized I couldn't find it in me to be angry. I wrapped her up in my arms, too, wishing that she didn't have to go. She had to work, I knew, but I wanted her here, with me, at Nana's. I wished she could stay there, with me and Trevor and Nana. It was where she belonged.  
Mama's scent feathered over me, a parody of Nana's. My Mama smelled like sugary lilacs, if there ever was such a smell. But I loved it, and I didn't want to have it leave me - even for a little while.

"I've got to go now, so I can get to work in the morning. But I'll be back before you know it, and we'll hang out here some more, okay?" She rubbed my back as she said this, like I was still a little kid, and she was comforting me. Even as she spoke those words, though, she didn't loosen her hug.

"Okay." I agreed reluctantly, hating how the words left my mouth - dull.

I pulled myself away from her slowly, wanting to prolong contact for as long as possible. Trevor was by my side, Katie still in his arms, her tail thumping against my side as he moved in for a hug, eagerly claiming my position. It was the joke in my family that my Mama was Trevor's second mother.

"Ew. With the dog?" My Mama stared at Katie in disdain.

"Yes'm!She's my loyal people-hugger." Trevor grinned his annoying grin, and my Mama caved.

I giggled at the dialogue, unable to help myself. Mama did her best to stop from touching Katie as she hugged Trevor, but she wasn't able to avoid the licks from the people-friendly dog. When Trevor pulled away, though, Mama brushed off her shirt as she moved to get into the car. It started up with a heavy revving sound, and she shut the door. Rolling down the window, she eased back down the driveway, and then paused as she was about to drive off. To me, all of the actions seemed to happen in slow motion, like I wasn't really viewing my mother driving away from me like this. . .

"It's not the end of the world, sweetie. I promise. I'll be back soon, okay? I love you!" She called out, her voice ringing with a myriad of emotions.

"Okay. I love you!" I called back, trying not to look too bummed out, trying to look all tough and brave and strong and all that jazz. I didn't have the I-need-to-be-around-my-mommy-twenty-four-seven syndrome, but damn if things didn't seem more dead without my Mama. On top of that, I was still kind of mad that she was leaving me out here. Sure, seven days had done well to erase most of that anger, but I still couldn't help but feel it anyway.

She drove off, honking a little tune out as she went, and Trevor released Katie as she did. The dog bounced about and raced up the road to chase my Mama's car for a little ways. I didn't worry - Katie didn't go very far. She was a very well-behaved dog, aside from her odd quirks. But I wasn't focusing on Katie. I was staring the fading red taillights of my Mama's car. She was really leaving me here for the rest of the summer. . . Trevor, as if sensing my inner distress, waddled up to me and draped a loose arm around my shoulder.

"Don't worry. I'll keep you company." He said, voice oddly loud in the sudden silence that had fallen. I nodded my head, barely keeping track of his words. My mind was whirling at a thousand thoughts a second.

"Mama's girl!" He teased me, batting me in the shoulder playfully. It was his way of getting my mind off of what had just happened, I knew. Really. It worked.

"Am not!" I shot back, punching him halfheartedly in the arm.

It wasn't the end of the world. I knew it wasn't. Really.

Then why did it feel like it was?


	4. First Assualt

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Disclaimer:

I do not own the Resistance: Fall of Man franchise. For those with intentions of stealing: beware. You will be crushed under the Titan's melee attack, causing instant death. You have been warned.

**Rating**: M for mature. Mature themes will emerge later on in the story. ( Currently the rating has been knocked down to T.)

**Notes**: Here's the next chapter! Sorry it took me so long to write, but I had to be careful when I was drafting this. There's certain things that I want to happen, and sometimes, they get a little fuzzy when I try to translate them into words. But I present to you in full, the First Assualt. I hope you guys are enjoying this - because I'm sure as heck having a great time writing it. Oh! By the way, in the next couple of chapters, it _might _be knocked up to an M. I'm not quite sure how graphic this story is going to be, but eh. . . Yeah.

Read and review, please!

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"_We've been seeing what you wanted, got us cornered right now.  
Fallen asleep from our vanity, might cost us our lives.  
I hear they're getting closer  
Their howls are sending chills down my spine.  
And time is running out now,  
They're coming down the hills from behind. _

_When we start killing  
It's all coming down right now  
From the nightmare we've created  
I want to be awakened somehow  
(I want to be awakened right now)._"

"_Howling_" - Within Temptations

* * *

Music flowed about my head, swirling into my mind and relaxing me. I knew the songs that played, I knew almost every word, every beat, every swelling note. . . But there was a poke in my side, right below my rib. I frowned slightly, rousing myself from the dozed state into which I'd fallen. The poke came again, stronger now - it tickled, kind of. Another poke. Finally I managed to crack open an eye, and I regarded the other passenger in the car with a groggy gaze. He grinned upon seeing me awake, some kind of roguish boyish grin, and irritably I sighed, closing my eye again. I had been having a pleasant nap. Trevor was deciding to wreck it like an idiot. Therefore, I was going to ignore him to the best of my abilities. I was going to shut my eyes tight and go right back tot sleep and wait until I felt Nana park the car. Only then would I wake up again.

_Poke, poke. _

My teeth grit, and I ignored the jabs from Trevor into my abdomen.

_Poke, poke, poke. _

It was hard not to growl a warning at him, or utter a small curse at the very least. . .

_Pokepokepokepokepoke._

"Goddamn!" I hissed, finally bolting upright in the backseat of the car.

I smacked his hand, and I was glad to hear a solid _whack _as I hit his skin. It made me happy. Trevor jumped a little, surprised with the speed by my contact, and then proceeded to snicker. I crossed my arms over my chest and yanked out my headphones, glowering at him and suppressing a yawn. It _had _been a very pleasant nap. One filled with relaxing music and something bordering on the edge of sleep.

"Wakey-uppy, sleepy head. We're here." He chirped happily, waving a hand to indicate the buildings that were currently zipping us by.

I looked out boredly. I lived in Seattle - a town like South Hill was nothing compared to the busy freeways and viaducts I was used to. Still. I'd been out in the country, so it was nice to have a refreshing breathe of the uh. . . mini-city air again. Nana's car began to slow down in front of a craft store, and I suppressed a groan. We were caught in traffic. South Hill traffic wasn't anything to complain over, I knew, but it was summertime. On a weekday. There shouldn't have been so many people bustling about!

In fact, I almost snickered to myself. Going from mountain dirt roads, packed with gravel, pinecones, and debris to a mini-city traffic was just hilarious. I liked coming to South Hill. It was easier to navigate, and there were a few stores that Seattle didn't have (almost impossible to say, but true). Nana sat in the front seat, radio blaring some odd station or another, and she hummed along as she drove, happy as any Nana could be. I looked back out the window, and this time I could not suppress the yawn that finally emerged from me. Trevor fell quiet beside me and gazed out the windows instead of poking me - a wise move on his part. You never poked the badger with the spoon unless you wanted your hand torn off.

I looked into the cars of other people. A blonde talking on her cellphone. A kid blasting rap music so hard his entire car shook with the noise, a man and a woman with small kids in the backseat watching a movie. . . The list went on. Mundane. Repetitive. Nothing that I couldn't follow in the city. But still. . . How easily comparable they were. It was intriguing sometimes to consider -

_Poke. _

"Hey," Trevor said as I turned to snap at him, "You're getting your daydreaming face on. This is about shopping, and a flick. Not about Cyra's adventures down the rabbit hole!"

Despite myself, I couldn't help but grin at my friend. He was right. I was notorious for doing that - thinking over a matter until it had driven me crazy. . . Today was our relaxing day. I was going to just that - relax.

We had to wait a couple of minutes before we came to our first destination, and Nana was finally able to turn into the Regal Cinemas parking lot right off of the main street. Impatient as ever, Trevor leaned forward, poking his head next to Nana's in order to read what was playing. His mood was infecting, I learned, as I began to mimic my friend's actions, eager to see what was on the big screens. He gave a few excited bounces, and Nana chuckled as she turned off the radio. I craned my next to see what had put Trevor in an excited tissy.

"That's out?" I said, excitement in my voice, "I thought it came out in a couple of months!" Hastily I began to unbuckle my seatbelt as Nana parked the car. Trevor laughed.

"Working at a hospital really has wrecked your memory! It came out two weeks ago - c'mon, Cyra, hurry! Let's see when it's playing!" Trevor and I both set off at a run, eager to get inside of the air-conditioned building.

"Don't run in the parking lot, you two!" Nana called after us, walking at a decidedly normal pace. We slowed to a small jog, glancing back at her impatiently and not stopping until we hit the curbside of the building. I grinned as I jumped up, feeling like a kid. The movie Trevor and I were going to see was nothing short of amazing. We had seen the previews, and they had left us speechless and hypnotized by the screens. We had turned to each other and whispered our general thought of the movie.

"Badass."

From there it felt like an eternity ticked right on by. It took forever to get in line to actually buy our tickets, and even longer to get to the concession stand. I'm not ashamed to say that I acted like a little kid in a candy store the entire time, looking around and eyeing the cardboard cutouts of heroes and villains, watching the previews on the gigantic flatscreen built into one of the walls. . . Trevor was infected by my mood and joined in all it with me, pointing whenever he saw something interesting enough.

Finally, Nana stepped up to buy the candy and the popcorn. When that was all said and done, she turned to us and shoved the sugary goods into our faces. I began to much on the artifically flavored and heavily salted popcorn. Trevor looked at me and pouted, holding the soda. I rolled my eyes and grabbed a piece and popped it into his mouth.

"You do love me."

"Save the romantics, please."

"I'll have to remember this as the day Cyra fed me popcorn!"

"Trevor, you are a dork."

"And I question if I should give either of you the tickets." Nana interjected, waving the pair in front of our faces.

The movie we were going to see, called _Infected_, was rated R. The guy who sold the tickets to Nana hadn't looked like he cared who was going where. Nana wanted to see another movie - which was fine with us. Upon seeing our expressions, however, my pixie of a grandmother coughed over the tickets (and we snatched them like wolves from her hands), as she laughed.

"I love you Nana. Even if you are cruel sometimes." I chirped, a large grin on my face as I stared at the ticket. Trevor murmured something akin to that as he echoed my movements.

The movie started in roughly twenty-five minutes.

"An old woman such as myself needs a kick or two, my dear. . . Now, if one of us comes out earlier than the other, we'll wait right here - agreed?" She said, gesturing vaguely to the lobby. Trevor and I both nodded as we scampered in line to get our tickets processed.

We parted ways with Nana shortly after that, as her movie was playing on the other side of the theatre. Trevor and I nearly ran down the hallway, sprinting past more posters and cutouts. We very nearly spilled the damn popcorn and soda, too. After finding the door to the screen, Trevor and I both stood in front of it, grinning like idiots. Upon seeing what was taped up onto the door, however, our attitudes quickly changed to awe.

"**They say when you die, something changes inside of you. . . **

**They were right. **

**Infected never come back the same.**"

The words were thick, and scattered around the poster. They surrounded a girl who stood there in a simple white dress, equally white hair cascading around her shoulders. Golden eyes glimmered back at us, simmering with a myraid of emotions. She was haunting as she was beautiful - and I managed to break the trance she had on us by opening the door. We entered, a quiet hush filling us as it had the entire theatre. Trevor and I snagged some seats in the middle row and eagerly waited, shoving popcorn into our mouths and sipping on soda.

When the lights turned down low and the previews started, Trevor and I sat perfectly still, staring at the large screen before us.

* * *

"_Infected _is the awesomest movie to come out this entire summer." Trevor stated, his voice laden with tones of awestruck breathlessness.

I nodded my head, not quite able to articulate the words myself.

Nana sighed as she unlocked the doors to the car, and we all clambered in, fastening our seatbelts. I was popping the last of the popcorn into my mouth, feeling my poor chapped and broken lips sting at all the salt. Trevor and I both waited as she carefully backed out and began to leave the parking lot. We exchanged glances, and stared at the back of her head. We were waiting. This was a script we had developed over years of seeing movies together.

She sighed again and shook her head, hating to ask, but having to pose the question:

"Alright, alright. Tell me your favorite part."

Ah. The age-long tradition being fulfilled. When I was younger, I couldn't figure out why she had always asked us that - why she had started it. But later on, a few years back, I discovered that the question was posed to drain excitement out of our systems.

I glanced at Trevor, and idiotic grins spread over our faces once more.

"Aw, the entire movie was my favorite part!" He said as he buckled up, "All of the shooting, and the zombies, and the people running around screaming like crazy people. . . What about you Cyra?"

I paused, thinking it over. What Trevor had said was my own statement, as well. I loved _Infected. _Had loved it when the first scene had shredded up the big screen. But my favorite part of the entire movie? Yeah. I think I had one. As Nana merged back onto traffic running on the main street through South Hill, I thought of the best way to tell her:

"_Emily gazed up in utter terror as she heard footsteps. Slow, dragging footsteps. She knew what that meant. It meant that she was going to die. So she skirted along the alleywall, shaking as fear flooded her bloodstream. She was going to be eaten alive. She was going to be ripped apart by those hands, into a million little pieces. Her heart was going to be ripped out. . . No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop the images that were being pulled into her head and played over, scene-by-scene. So Emily closed her eyes and tried to breathe in deeply, not wanting to cry. That would only make the monster come faster. _

_Those footsteps edged closer, and then paused. . . A ragged, wet breathing sucked up a breath, and then hissed loudly, the sound so menacing that it pierced Emily's heart. _

_She didn't have to look up to know that she had been found. _

_The monster ripped through the trash surrounding them both in the alley. Emily clamped her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming - but it was too late. A bloody hand reached over and locked onto her shoulder, flinging her to the ground. She kicked and she fought, but it was in vain. The zombie-like human had no concept of mercy. It descended upon her, sharp teeth biting into her, again and again, nearly ripping her skin off in some places. _

_And then it left her, as suddenly as it had come. Emily remained in the alley, surrounded by her own blood, eyes glazing over and her breathing beginning to slow as her heart began to give slow, painful lurches. She was cold. She was so, so cold. . . Emily sucked in one last, trembling breath before she died, right there in some backalley filled with trash and splashed with her blood. _

_But she wasn't dead. She could see and feel, even though her emotions and thoughts were locked behind some gigantic wall that refused to shatter. She laid there, eyes open, mouth parted slightly as she'd drawn in breath, and it was the most blissful thing she'd ever experienced in her life. There was no more reason for her to fear. She was alright now. She didn't have to be afraid of the things that lurked in the city. . . _

_"She's still alive." A voice said - muffled through some kind of odd device - some time later. Emily became aware that there were hazy shadows all around her. _

_"Yes, but she's been bitten. All over. She's infected, no doubt about it." _

_"What do we do, then? Put a bullet in her head and wish her goodbye?" _

_"Sarcasm won't get you anywhere, Corporal. We'll radio it in and see what the higher ups want done." _

_"Like that will help any. . ." _

_They shifted as they spoke into a radio, but Emily has ceased paying attention. It wasn't interesting. She was dead, obviously. Those men just weren't looking close enough. So she drifted, staring at the sky instead. It was thick with a poisonous black smog, choking out the sun. . . stars - was it day or night? She didn't know. Emily couldn't remember. _

_"She's coming back to base. Sedative." _

_A prick in her body - somewhere, she couldn't locate where - and darkness claimed her._"

Nana gave me a glance in the rearview mirror, and then she shrugged. She went on to mumble something about my overactive imagination, but next to me, Trevor gave a little gasp and quickly recovered.

"Oh, _yeah_! I loved that part. Because then you see her after the military gets her - 'coz she was immune to whatever made everyone else go crazy."

Nana, I'm sorry to say, had to put up with our chatter about _Infected _until she hit the mall. And that had been a good ten minutes. Woman had a lot of patience, I tell you. She parked right next to the food court - which was pretty empty - so we could find her car a lot easier. We headed inside, Trevor and I still gabbing on about this or that, and then we paused as we took in the interior of the mall. The food court was being remodeled, hence why it was mysteriously empty. Some of the food vendors had packed up and taken off too - huh. Interesting.

"Meet back here in two hours." Nana said, strolling off. I loved that about my Nana - she trusted Trevor and me enough to let us wander around alone.

So wander around alone we did. We strolled into clothing stores. We sighed and shook our heads at overpriced sweaters and shoes. We laughed when we put on fashion shows for each other - frustrating the kiosks when we didn't buy a single thing. We hit up a gift shop, laughing more at the odd baubles and trinkets that we found there. Eventually we managed to stumble upon a bookstore, and we stalled there for a while, browsing through the racks and lounging in the quiet atmosphere it provided us. Here, however, a book caught my eye.

_Infected: The Novelization _sat on the shelf innocently, and with a happy smile, I swiped it up. Definite buy. I'd loved the movie so much, it would be a pleasure to read it. Upon finding my discovery, Trevor begged and pleaded with me over reading it. As I bought the book, I promised my friend that he could read it after I was done.

Our very last shop was a gamer shop. Trevor and I took our time browsing over the game titles and happily perusing through used and new games. I liked playing games with Trevor - our "gamer" sessions together were always interesting and never ceased to make me laugh.

The shop itself wasn't very big, but it was packed full of racks and cartons. A demo for two different consoles were nestled up against the windows, allowing the people to be drawn in. A small TV was hooked up onto the ceiling, relaying feed from a gaming channel on TV. I looked up at it, hearing something about a preview, but it flickered - and then the image fell away, leaving an annoying ringing sound and colored bars in place. The guy manning the counter noticed this, and he dug around for a remote before he pointed it at the small screen. He clicked a few buttons, but nothing seemed to work. The TV had effectively broken. He shook his head and picked up the phone next to the counter, muttering under his breath - and paused. He lifted his hand and punched in a few numbers. Hung up. Picked up and tried again.

"First the TV, and now the phone. Great. Boss is going to be so angry. . ." He grumbled, and caught me looking at him. His cheeks turned slightly pink as he shuffled away to ask someone if they needed help.

Trevor crowed loudly as he lifted up a case into the air, shoving it in my face the next second. I turned my attention to my friend, shrugging the matter off. The cashier wasn't going to lose his job, I was certain, over a TV that had lost a signal and a phone that had stopped working.

"Think they're going to make an _Infected _game?" Trevor asked, hope lighting his eyes.

"Sure, Trevor. Go buy a coffee cup and a shirt with Emily's picture on it, while you're at it." I said, but instantly regretted saying such a thing.

I could almost hear the _ding! _coming from the lightbulb above Trevor's head.

"Hey! That sounds like a great idea. When we go home, I'm getting online an ordering those." He laughed as I shook my head and rubbed a hand over my face.

"Jimminy. Obsessed much, Trevor?"

"Hey now, Cyra. No need to be jealous. No matter how close I might get to Emily, there's no reason for you to feel like you're being replaced."

"She'll so mace you the first chance she gets, dork."

"Aw, Cyra, you know I still love you!"

"You're obsessed. God help you."

"I can't help-"

I heard a faint pop in the air. A warm breeze drafted over my body. Trevor's words were lost on me as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up on end and I turned, looking towards the entrance to the game shop. What was going on? I gave a cautious glance over to my friend - and I discovered he was doing the same thing. He had a puzzled expression on his face. So, I hadn't been the only one who had heard that odd sound. In fact, people in the hall were stopping and glancing around, curious.

The sound repeated again, louder this time. Louder. Louder.

Hotter.

_BANG. _

People cried out in shock as part of the roof caved in, splashing plaster and wood all over the floor. I gave a little cry too, suddenly glad that I was in the game shop and out of the immediate cave-in zone. As it was, I had a perfect view of what was going on.

It grew silent as the seconds passed, and I frowned, trying to figure out why in the world everybody was staring up. What was so interesting about a hole in the roof? The ceiling might cave in at any second - and since the ceiling was arched and over fifteen feet high, that would cause some serious damage to anybody. As it was, it was a miracle nobody had been standing directly underneath the junk that now lay on the floor.

Fear suddenly struck me. Nana was in the mall. Could other sections of the roof have caved in? Was she hurt?

Something dropped down the hole.

And I realized then why people were staring.

Slowly, the creature picked itself back up to its' feet, and I remained frozen there, eyes examining it. The eyes, glaring out at the world in a beautiful shade of gold. The misshapen skull. The taloned hands, the armor that padded it - it was a creature of war.

_It wasn't human. _

A low growl ripped through the air, as threatening as any sound a predator could make. I stood there, shocked and terrified, having a perfect view of this creature from the back of the game store. It took a moment to figure out that it was holding an object in its' hands, and another moment longer to discover this object was a gun. The gun began to hum and to glow an orange color - and I found myself wondering idly if this was an elaborate prank. A new reality show, with hidden cameras dotted everywhere.

It howeld, a bone-chilling sound that made me want to clamp my hands over my ears. People began to scream, to run. Knocking one another over in haste to escape the thing that stood there. I watched as time slowed down, and that gun fired, and people fell. They fell in a mist of red, and they didn't get back up.

I watched it all, feeling numb as I saw the bodies falling as the monster fired and fired and fired. It ran out of my sight, down one path of the hallway. _Pursuing more people to hunt_, my mind informed me.

More monsters jumped down the hole, and each of them dispersed as they fired upon people in the mall.

I stood there, body rooted to the floor, as one of the creatures turned to the game shop. It held one of the long, glowing guns as well. Golden eyes narrowed as a harsh, primitive roar escaped from it. It opened fire on the game shop, and I turned my head, tracing the path of the bullets. The cashier was hit with a barrage of orange fire, and his body jerked as it killed him instantly.

Somebody grabbed my hand and yanked my unresponsive body down by a metal bin filled with used games. The monster proceeded into the store, where it shot another onlooker. It began to make its' way to the back, where we were hunkered down. _Are we going to die_? I wondered idly. I watched, looking at the monster, entranced. A few more steps, and it would see us. Trevor, though, began to pull me along, tugging my body into motion beside him. The monster moved to the back of the store, distracted by some game case or another.

That was the opening Trevor was waiting for. With a rough jerk, my friend yanked me back up to my feet and took the lead as he began sprinting. I followed, silent and still, tethered by his hand. As we entered the hallway, blood and bodies greeted us - and I slipped. I could see the Trevor's lips moving as he tried to swear silently, still aware of the monster in the store, and the others in the mall. He jerked me back up to my feet again, and not a moment too soon. The monster growled as it saw us, and raised the gun.

"_Move!_" Trevor screamed.

He pulled me along right as the bullets raced over to greet us, and he ran like the wind, dragging me along still. All of the sounds and sights - the screams, the gunfire, the sounds of people running - were left for me to grasp through a thick, heavy fog. I couldn't make any sense of it.

Why were the people dying?

Why the mall?

What about Nana?

The thought struck me like an iron bar, and I gasped suddenly, everything returning to normal with a painful, shattering crash. Fear raced through my blood, the screams echoing around us were suddenly deafening. My eyes went wide, and I tugged on Trevor's hand, trying to get him to stop.

"Trevor! We have to get Nana, come on!" I shouted, trying to tug him desperately into one of the nearby stores. Our two hours had nearly been up - Nana would have been heading over to the food court already. She'd be somewhere over there, on the other side of the mall.

My friend said nothing. Just kept running, his grip on mine tightening.

"Trevor, please!" I begged, trying to be heard over the dun.

I opened my mouth to call out to him again, but a throaty roar cut me off. One of those monsters had seen us. I cried out in terror as a spray of glowing orange bullets streaked towards us, about to rip us to pieces - but I was knocked down to the floor, Trevor laying on top of me. He grunted, as if he'd been struck, but simply rolled up and pulled me back up with him. I spared a glance over to the monster - it was reloading. We'd gotten lucky.

And just like that, we ducked into the nearest clothing store and dashed through the entry doors, peeking right out onto the highway above the street.

"Trevor, Nana's inside of there. We have to go get her!" I turned, ready to run back in, but his hand clamped over mine again. He looked at me, eyes filled with fear, tears coursing down his cheeks.

"We can't," He said, his voice thick and sounding choked, "We don't have anything to fight them with, and she was so far away. . ."

"No!" I shrieked, wresting myself away from him and running to the doors. Trevor was quicker than me, and he grabbed me around the waist, not letting me go any further.

Tears sprang to my eyes, and my mouth went dry. My throat felt suddenly clogged, and I couldn't speak or utter a sound. Deep inside of me, I knew what Trevor had said was true, but. . . I couldn't leave Nana to such a fate. I had to try and get her, to pull her out of the mall, somehow, alive.

I turned away from the mall, twisting in Trevor's grip. I couldn't bear to look at the building any longer. Here in the parking lot, I could see cars zipping by madly, drivers certainly aware of the chaos going on inside of the mall. Some cars had crashed. Some looked burned and ripped apart. Had the monsters been here, too? Were they going to come back? I did not know these answers.

I just wanted Nana.

A shadow spread over the ground, and Trevor looked up, body suddenly growing weak, his grip on me loosening. I glanced at him - utter awe was plastered onto his features. What had provoked such a reaction? I turned my head to the sky too, tears blurring my vision. But what I saw made my heart stop in shock.

It was a fleet of ships. Tiny, small, and odd. Not crafted by human hands in the least. They were dropping down everywhere in the town, dropping from my line of sight. With a sudden, sure clarity, I knew that we weren't going to survive this. There was no way we could fight monsters that could swarm a small town like this. . .

Gunfire ruined my momentary acceptance of death, and I turned to the sound, finding more of those monsters had entered the parking lot. They were firing at cars and people - clearing it out, I guessed. My heart sped up, and adrenalin poured into my veins as I glanced at Trevor again. _Where can we go? _There was no place safe from these things. They were everywhere. They were going to kill us, and that was the end of it. I had no experience with guns. I was not a survivalist. I was going to die.

Trevor looked at me, and he crushed my hand again, a glint entering his eye.

What was this side of him?

A side I did not know - I had never seen it before.

"Come on, Cyra!" He yelled at me, dragging me along again like I was some sort of a rag doll. I followed, my brain registering his commands as my own. My conscience had been shut down by grief and acceptance. But some other, smaller part of my mind was telling me it would be okay-

I heard the screech of tires, and Trevor exclaim a rather loud, nasty curse. I looked up, wondering what had gone wrong already. A car was barreling towards us, the driver waving at us madly from his seat. He was going fast. Too fast. He was ripping up the asphalt, driving full-throttle towards us.

Trevor and I dislodged as we both backpedaled, and I tripped over my own feet, hitting the pavement hard. I watched as the car sped past me, a speeding metal bullet - and it hit the side of the mall. The car crunched, and then turned into a living trash compactor as the frame buckled and bent in on itself, the glass breaking. I'm fairly certain I heard a short, agonized scream coming from the man inside, but that was put to an end as the entire car buckled against the side of the building.

I sat there, dumbfounded as the seconds ticked by. The man had killed himself - committed suicide by crashing into the side of a building rather than die by a few simple gunshots. . .

The nurse inside of me woke with a vengeance - and as I stumbled to my feet (heedless now, of the danger around me), I wondered if there was any hope that the driver inside was still alive. If so, I was going to smack him upside the head as I pulled his sorry ass out of the car wreck.

I reached the crumpled remains of the car, and as I bent in to inspect the damage, resting my hands gently on the warped frame of the vehicle. I heard the faint sound of the engine whining, and the acrid smell of gasoline as it flooded the air. There was also another smell - something more primitive, coppery, and metallic. Blood. I pushed myself in, disregarding the pain that ran through my body as I shoved myself into the broken glass and twisted metal, and I searched for the driver.

Stupid as it sounds, it was actually hard to find him amidst the metal. But eventually I laid my eyes on him, and I watched as he coughed, something gurgling low in his throat. He looked at me with hazy, unfocused eyes, and a delirious smile spread across his face.

"Pretty girl. . ." He murmured, blood spilling over his lips and dripping off of his chin, ". . . gonna be an angel soon. . ."

"No, you're not." I said, my voice sounding a lot stronger and more confident than I felt. The inside of me trembled as I reached in, grasping his bloody hand in mine, "You're going to be fine. I'm going to get you out of here, okay?"

He grinned then, as though I had just told some hilariously funny joke, and the blood poured out of his mouth, "N-Not me. . . You."

I frowned, wondering what in the holy hell that meant. I meant to question him, ask him what he meant - to keep him talking, and there in the car with me - but the light faded from his eyes. His head dropped, and his hand went slack in mine. He was dead. Reluctantly I released his hand, and right as tears began to prick at my eyes once more, I saw a flash of orange. Those monsters. They were close now - I could see them. I hurried to untangle myself from the wreckage, looking out to the parking lot - to see Trevor, screaming at me, waving his arms around like a madman.

I didn't have any time to run.

I felt the air pop, and then a vibration trembled up my body, jarring my very bones. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see what was coming next. I didn't want to open my eyes, and have the Reaper standing in front of me, beckoning me with a bony hand as the last thing I saw. . .

I heard a roar, louder than any I'd ever heard in my life, and without warning, my body was tossed up into the air by invisible hands. They punched me, ran over my skin so that I burned, and still their punishment continued. I could feel myself twisting in the air, weightless and supported by nothing - before being roughly dumped onto the asphalt. My body twisted and slid against the rough surface, and numbly I could feel pressure building on my arm as it slid underneath me. My bone was going to break - if it hadn't already. I could feel it straining against the muscles, almost splintering in half - but then it was over. There was no crack, and no pain accompanied.

I had stopped moving.

I breathed out deeply, not realizing that my lungs were starving for air, and not caring. The burning that was building in my chest would pass.

My mind slipped away into darkness, and I knew no more.

* * *

_What an odd dream. _

_One might have thought that my brain would have been less. . . Graphic, but I supposed it was okay. I'd had weird dreams before, but never to this extent. Maybe I really did need to relax a little more? Mama had been right, I guess. I needed more time to myself - away from the stress and the bustle of the hospital._

_I came back to myself slowly, aware that I was in a strange place - a world that was gray and black. A place that was between sleep and the real world, I was certain. If I stepped into the gray zone, I could feel a body that was mine (but it wasn't mine. . . What an odd sensation), moving, a wet, sticky warmth spread all over. But that was the limit of its' touch. The body's eyes were closed, and the muscles were relaxed. _

_It must have been a terrible dream, if the body that wasn't mine was still stuck in such a reality. _

_So instead, I let myself wander, exploring the boundaries of the gray zone that I found myself trapped in._

_The body heard faint screams, the sounds of screeching tires, the sounds of gunfire. . . But I tuned it all out. It was just a dream. It would end soon. I'd wake up in the car, Trevor laughing at how I'd fallen asleep someplace and he'd have to carry me back out, to the car so we could go home. I'd slug him a good one for trekking me through the mall unconscious, but he'd forgive me. Nana would just laugh it off as she drove us back home, planning another trip to South Hill for us. Another movie day._

_I felt a smile tug at my features. Of course Nana would do that. She'd probably tire me out and take pictures of Trevor lugging me out to the car, should me falling asleep happen again. Nana was just that kind of person. _

_Vertigo struck me, and I felt myself wobbling, body being lurched violently to the black zone. I cried out, clinging to the gray, wanting to stay. It was nicer that way. The black terrified me. It told me I might not ever wake up again. I wanted to stay in the gray like this, just for a while longer. This was a place where my emotions were muted, and my mind wasn't running at a thousand miles a minute. It was my sanctuary, and for this reprieve, I was glad. Mama had always said that I over thought things. My mind never got to rest._

_So slowly, inch by glorious inch, I was able to fight my way back to the gray zone. And I stayed there, away from the dream, but not entirely freed from it. When I woke up, I'd have to tell Trevor all about it. I could just imagine it now - writing a book off of it, seeing video games, having my friend brag that he'd known the girl who'd written such a story. . . I grinned, pleased with myself. Trevor would think it was a dream spawned from me on crack, but I'd say that almost all of the best movies and franchises had been made by people on acid trips. _

_The noises in my dream suddenly stopped, quieting all together. I paused, curious now, turning my attention back to that awful thing that was haunting me. Indeed, it was silent now. Was it time for me to wake up? Was the dream over? I nudged into the gray zone further, but instantly regretted the action. A strong hand latched back onto my mind, dragging it firmly into the black. I fought against it momentarily, feeling pain in the nonexistent body in my dream, and it exhausted me. I had no strength to fight this invisible hand._

_I let that hand drag me back down into the black, and I hoped feverishly as my thoughts and emotions were stripped from me, that when I woke up - that horrible nightmare would be gone. _


	5. Apocalyptic World

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Disclaimer:

I do not own the Resistance: Fall of Man franchise. For those with intentions of stealing: beware. You will be crushed under the Titan's melee attack, causing instant death. You have been warned.

**Rating**: M for mature. Mature themes will emerge later on in the story. ( Currently the rating has been knocked down to T.)

**Notes**: Sorry that this took so long! College just started for me, and starting it all off was very hectic. On top of that, this year is my senior year, so I'm making sure to do that all right. Please bear with me - I love this story to abandon it, so you needn't worry about that. However, updates may be a slight more sporatic due to school. I won't leave this story until it's finished, though! So here you are. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I love to write it.

Leave a review for me! You don't know how giddy it makes me to reply to them.

* * *

"_I still remember the world  
From the eyes of a child  
Slowly those feelings  
Were clouded by what I know now_

Where has my heart gone  
An uneven trade for the real world  
Oh I... I want to go back to  
Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all."

Field of Innocence - _Evanescence _

* * *

I flexed my fingers, watching as my hand formed a fist.

I closed my eyes, sucking in a deep breath as I shivered. Despite the fact that I was wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, I was freezing. It seemed that I was always cold nowadays, nevermind the notion I spent most of my time inside of our warm haven. Pressing deeper into the warm nest of blankets and pillows that surrounded me, I took in another deep breath and expelled it slowly, willing myself to relax. Sleeping was a good thing to do right now - since it was the dead hours before morning. I tried to will sleep to come to me, but it would not. I just couldn't get the tenseness to melt out of my muscles - I sighed softly as I smothered my face into my pillow.

As irritated as I was with myself, I couldn't blame my body. My mind refused to drop the barrier that I'd erected to keep myself safe. . . To keep _us _safe.

I stared at the empty space next to me, and groggily, I tried to recall why Trevor was not present.

My friend was no longer present - I knew this the moment I had woken up. Apparently I had been too deeply asleep to hear - or feel him - leaving the sleeping nest we'd constructed together. It hadn't taken long for the nasty nightmares and flashbacks to come screeching back into my skull. I had woken up shortly after, alone and cold. I had found that Trevor was no longer present, and that had irritated me deeply. So I tried to force myself to sleep, because I was tired, and a big day was ahead of me later on. Therein lied my predicament, however - I was unable to sleep. So it wasn't that I couldn't sleep. if I tried to sleep, I knew that I could.

It was the fact that Trevor was no longer with me that kept me awake.

In truth, it was the worry and fear that gnawed at my insides. It ate at me inside, like a ravenous monster wanting to eat at everything inside of me. The fear that Trevor would die, that he would somehow be injured. The even greater worry that Trevor wouldn't come back at all. . . So this is what stopped me from functioning whenever Trevor wasn't around. For he was my lifeline, and without him, I would surely die within hours.

Ever since the monsters had come _(years, it felt like. Years_.), Trevor and I had become inseperable. He had found an excellent place to hide, and we had carved that place into an excellent survival camp of sorts. During our time here, we had become instinctively attuned to one another in a way that I thought was impossible for human beings to achieve. But if he moved left, I knew where he was going. If I sat there with a stoic look on my face, he knew what I would be thinking.

In a way, though, I was glad about it. His presence here reassured me - gave me a light in the darkness. Stuck inside of this hellish dream world, he held all my sanity together.

Yawning, I shifted under the blankets and wished that he'd hurry his ass up and get back to me. I never felt right without Trevor around.

Glancing around me, I took in the caved-in ceiling, the blankets, and the small tables we'd erected to act as storage places and eating areas. A few laterns were hanging from nails we'd tacked into the wall - and although they were noisy, I did enjoy the light they gave off. In this world, light was an incredibly precious resource. Our precious haven, no matter how destroyed it was, was the Regal Cinema. The same exact theatre that we'd watched _Infected _that faithful day.

God, it seemed like so long ago. . .

On that day when the monsters had attacked, I had passed out. The extent of my injuries had not been pleasant, and according to Trevor, I had been in a half-conscious daze, murmuring incoherent words. Yet somehow, my friend had managed to run all the way across town, a dazed and broken me upon his backside. He had brought us to the remains of the movie theatre - although it certainly didn't resemble one now. It was ruined. Destroyed beyond all hopes of repair. When he had crawled into the rubble, he found that a few of the screening rooms were actually intact. While it didn't offer too much room to stretch, it gave us someplace to hide and keep the elements at bay. . .

I closed my eyes again and tried to get my body to relax.

The days that had followed the first assault were cloaked in a hazy fever. I remember Trevor tending to me vaguely, whispering encouraging, soft promises in my ear. There was pain, too. A pain so intense and horrifying that it actually blotted out my memory. I had nearly broken my right arm in various places. As it was, the blast had picked me up in the air, tossed me like a rag doll, and then deposited me roughly on the asphalt. The hard surface had eaten at my skin, gouging it and tearing it to shreds. My face had received the same treatment as my arm, and I counted myself lucky. I could have lost my eyesight in my right eye. . .

My skin twinged in pain as I remembered the event in too much detail. I cringed slightly as the pain grew, but it passed as quickly as it began.

I wore bandages on my arm and face now, in order to keep dirt and other nasty things out of my skin. I had already gotten them infected once (while I had been in my half-conscious state), and the experience had not been pleasant. During more lucid periods, I had instructed Trevor to keep the wounds open in order to drain out any unwanted influence. Unfortunately for me, that also meant a longer healing period. Now, so many weeks after the event, I was healing up very nicely.

I'd have some incredibly impressive scars to show anybody if I survived this entire ordeal.

Concerning matters of health, I was also worried about our rapid loss of weight. While Trevor and I did good with scouting for food and medical supplies, I would be damned if we both managed to eat it at all. Despite our best efforts, we were lucky if the both of us could eat a quarter of the calorie count we used to. I just was unable to stomach much these days - Trevor fessed up to being in the same boat as me. So, over the days, I had watched as our bodies had begun to drop weight. At first it had scared me, but then I just accepted it. If losing all of the fat on me was the only way to survive, then I'd do it. Once upon a golden time in life I had wanted to be a skinny model girl, wearing all the cute shirts and frilly dresses, but now I was just scared that I would snap in half like a twig.

A door opened somewhere, and I lifted myself up off of our bed to look at the walkway to the screen room. Sure enough, my friend was walking up the dirty red carpet towards me. As he approached, I gave him a very pointed stare.

"You scared me." I accused, lips pulling into a sharp frown. I'm certain my menacing look was ruined by the white bandages plastered all over half my torso.

"I'm sorry," Trevor replied, sounding half-sympathetic as he slipped a full backpack off of his shoulders, "I just wanted to make a short morning run."

"Why would you go without me?" I snapped, my tone bordering on anger.

Trevor should have known better. I wasn't going to survive if he decided to make "a short morning run" alone and never come back.

"I know. . . I'm sorry." He said, taking off his shoes and turning to face me.

I sighed, releasing my anger. I could find some way to reprimand him later - right now, I just wanted to sleep. With Trevor next to me.

Without any verbal communication, he crawled into bed with me and we curled into each other. At one point in time, I probably would have called him a pervert and slapped him for coming so close to me. But ever since this monsters had revealed themselves, this was the only way to keep the nightmares and the demons at bay. And here, in this place full of hell - it was an ability that I cherished very much. My nightmares were something that I truly feared, and i wasn't afraid to admit it. Blood, guns, screams. . . I could never chase them away in my dreams. Not without Trevor beside me, anyway.

Reluctantly, my eyes closed, and I drifted back off into a numb sleep - Trevor doing the same beside me. I couldn't stay mad at him for very long. . . Not that I wanted to.

For I knew that without Trevor, I wouldn't last seconds in this world.

* * *

I peeked around the corner, checking the street for signs of the monsters. As my eyes travelled over the road, I found small scraps of paper and trash littered the street. A wind chose that moment to gust over the land, for it picked up the debris and caused it to stir - but other than that, there wasn't a single sign of life in the empty streets. Straightening myself behind the corner, I flattened the bandage back over my eye. Trapped in mock-blindness, I exchanged a one-eyed glance with Trevor and nodded my head. We moved out of the alley we were in, skirting close to the buildings. The backpack that I wore rustled with every step that I took, but it was a quiet, muted sound. Inside, I had a few notebooks, pencils an pens, and lunch for the both of us. Medical supplies, too - I refused to go anywhere unless we had a medical kit somewhere on our persons.

As we walked, I listened to our footsteps bounce off of ruined buildings. We were crunching and cracking over broken glass and asphalt, which was how the entirety of South Hill looked. Like some giant wasteland filled with dead corpses and husks of cars.

Four weeks.

Twenty-eight days.

Eleven hundred and fifty two hours.

That was how long my friend and I had managed to stay alive, and during all of those days and hours, not a single survivor in sight. Although, to be fair, I hadn't been fully conscious for five of those days at all.

Being half-blind, I swore underneath my breath, and brushed unruly strands of lanky brown hair out of my face. After Trevor placed a steadying hand on my shoulder, I continued onwards.

Even though I would be eternally grateful to my friend for caring for my body for five days, I was sorely unhappy with how my health had turned out. My arm and face were bandaged, yes, and I was lucky to still have those limbs. But they still hurt most of the time, and were sensitive to pressure - oftentimes, they felt raw, too. Like somebody had peeled away all of my skin without a second thought - oh, wait. . . That had basically been the case, now that I think about it. . . Still. I didn't like to fess up to it, but feeling in my right arm was sometimes nonexistent, and occasionally my vision in my right eye would be less than perfect.

I wasn't about to let that hold me back, though.

"Cyra." Trevor called to me. I knew that tone. It meant he saw something.

I snapped back to the present from my musing, and my one-eyed gaze instantly found him. He was staring at me, but I knew what he was thinking. The monsters were nearby. I closed my eyes briefly, extending my senses (_how odd, how sharp they get when you need to survive_), and then I heard it. The growling and snapping as they trekked through the streets.

I opened my eyes, instantly scanning the street and surrounding buildings for a place to hide. Three buildings ahead, the windows had been shattered, and most of the roof on the second floor had caved in, but it would provide the perfect hiding place. I tapped Trevor on the shoulder and pointed. He followed after me, grabbing the hem of my shirt to show me he was trailing me. With a bit of difficulty, I jumped up into the window frame and crouched on the other side, waiting for my friend to join me. He dropped beside me not but a few moments later - but he was cradling his hand. I was quick to grab a bandage packet out of my pocket and tear it open, pressing it to the wound on his palm. I saw the small cut for a total of three seconds before I pressed the white gauze to it. I was relieved to find that it wasn't big or deep.

Out here, I knew that the monsters did not forgive. They knew no mercy. In this world, filled with emptiness and ghosts, a single mistake (no matter how small) would cost a person their life. That, I had found, was something that every human being feared to lose.

I heard a heavy humming noise accompanying the monsters as they approached our hiding place. Mentally, I cursed, too. Drones. Trevor and I had given them the name after that horrible droning noise they made when they hovered through the air. It seemed that, more and more, Drones were present with the monsters on their patrols. Something that was important to know.

I took a peek at the heavily-scratched watch on my wrist.

1:35 P.M.

Too early for a patrol to be passing through here. Which meant that it was another one of the surprise patrols. It seemed that the patrols were ramping up in number and frequency, but with enough discord that I couldn't guess a frequent pattern. . .

The monsters were just outside the building now. I closed my eyes and breathed in quietly, doing my best to control the frantic beating of my heart. In the silence that made my ears ring, my breathing seemed strangely loud - if I had to silence it in order to survive, I would. If living meant stopping my heart, I would do that, too.

I heard a feral growl, and then a horrible screeching sound as metal was torn into. Another hard impact landed on metal, and the sound of it tearing into little fragments made my ears hurt. The growls turned into little roars, and I did my best not to yelp in surprise whenever the metal was attacked by the creatures. One of the monsters snapped and growled, and another growled in return. The metal was clawed at again. I wrenched my eyes shut, as tightly as I could, and I wished that they would go away. I didn't pray - no. I was no longer capable of pray-

Then I heard the sound of one of their glowing guns firing. I could imagine the orange bullets streaking through the air as it impacted with the metal (probably a car). Silence descended moments later, and then the monsters scampered off, as if in pursuit in something. The Drones were certainly in no hurry to get along after them, but they left the area shortly after, too. I counted slowly in my head, starting from zero and working my way to one hundred. It was a system Trevor and I had developed. Count from zero to one hundred, and then we could move out. I made sure to count extra slow, just to make sure that they'd moved far, far away. . .

I hit eighty-five when Trevor gave me a light shove.

"They're gone." He murmured quietly. His voice seemed far, far too loud.

"You counted too fast." I whispered back, not wanting to break the mold.

Trevor cracked a wry smile, "You know me. Always wanting to rush into danger."

"I know."

He moved to get up, peeking into the street through the shattered window frame. I went about unzipping the backpack and taking out a notebook and pen, before writing the date, time, and what had happened. Sadly, in our four weeks, our two notebooks were getting pretty full.

It had been my idea to map out the patrols. After I had woken up, and had seen what Trevor had managed to scout out on his own, I demanded that we make it safer. So we made sure we wore watches when going out on scavenges, and we'd record the area, patrol, time, and groups and numbers if we were able. It made it a lot easier to schedule sleeping hours and supply runs into the town doing this. I had also found that it made my paranoia and tension ease slightly. If we knew when the monsters were going to be coming, we would have more time to prepare. Enough seconds to be able to blend into the ruins of the landscape. Recently, however, the monsters had been launching surprise patrols - and in my opinion, it was almost as if they were afraid of something. . .

"Looks like they attacked a truck." Trevor finally commented. Curious, now, I got up to my feet and looked out the window, too.

A nearby truck - black in color - was nearly ripped to shreds. It was also riddled with bullet holes now. I frowned to myself as I stared at the shredded metal. It didn't take two eyes to know that the monsters had been after something. . . But the question remained - what?

"Maybe they found a dog." I said, shrugging as I packed everything back up.

"Mmhm." Trevor agreed absently.

I instantly wished that I hadn't said that, though. Because it only made me think of Katie. Nana. Mama. . . While my heart twisted in a sick manner whenever I thought about it, I knew they were okay. Mama would have gotten wind of this and hidden long ago, while Nana probably had destroyed part of the mall herself to get out from under the wreckage. She was a tough old lady, and I'd pity any monster who thought that they could get the better of her. Besides - after this was all over, I knew that we would all be reunited again. I knew this, in my heart. There was no way that it could be otherwise.

We packed up and headed out again, lapsing into silence. Trevor took the lead this time, and I made sure that we remained on track. We were walking to a destination close to the outskirts of town - and upon reaching what looked like a scrap booking store, we both called it good. Trevor and I sat down and nibbled on a very small lunch. For mealtime, though, we mostly just. . . Sat there. Sat there and zoned out, suddenly tired and not very hungry at all.

_We can't outlast them forever_. I thought to myself.

_We're just two kids. We're not military or anything. . . _

No, we most certainly were not. Besides, gunfire just might attract their attention.

Which was what we wanted to avoid at all costs.

"God sure has a funny way of showing he cares." Trevor suddenly murmured beside me.

Anger welled up inside of me, and I couldn't help how I scoffed right then. My friend turned to me, inquisitive. When it came to religion, Trevor never really understood what I thought. Sometimes I couldn't very well pick it apart from my mind, either. I sighed and stared at the ground, kicking a piece of rubble with an incredibly scuffed-up sneaker. Obviously, it had seen better days.

"God doesn't exist. Never has, never will." I said, hoping that the conviction in my voice was enough to repel his questions on the issue.

"Maybe. But everybody has to believe in something, don't they?"

Mama had believed in God. I hadn't - she was okay with that, after a while. . . Nana wasn't sure what to believe in. So I had been lost in a family that had been torn every which-way when it came to belief. But if we were talking about here. . . Well then, that was a different story entirely.

"Not in my life he doesn't. If he does, Trevor, this is his way of strapping you to the whipping post and giving you lashes 'till you die."

He peeked through the mess of his hair, a wry smile on his face.

"Geez, Cyra. A little strong on the matter, huh?"

Then he smiled at me.

It took me by surprise, because it wasn't weak, or forced, or full of darkness. It was the smile he'd used to give me. The one that infected me, too, and made me share in his mood. It seemed so out of place here - but it gave me hope. As I felt that horrible emotion creeping up through my heart, I smiled, too. Just like I used to.

_As long as Trevor is here, _I thought to myself, _I know this world will still be okay. _

* * *

As we trekked our weary selves back to the Regal, we yawned and slipped and tripped all the while. Our little brush with a surprise patrol had left us exhausted, and it didn't help that we had been out for most of the day, scouting and hiking around. No matter how many times we repeated the matter, it never got easier. Fatigue laid over our bodies heavily, and I was just happy as hell that we were only a good few blocks out from the building. Even though it was beginning to get dark outside, we took our sweet time. Flicking a one-eyed glance up to the sky, I found that dark clouds were beginning to gather in the sky, and that all-too familiar smell of rain was beginning to pervade my senses.

God, I loved smelling a good rainstorm before it hit.

There was something about the rain that actually called to me. I liked out it looked and felt, could care less if it soaked me to the bone, and best of all, I loved that clean scent it left behind - almost as if the rain itself were capable of washing away all of our sins. . .

I remember a time when I had been a small child (I refused to call myself a child now, after everything I had seen over the past four weeks), and the rain had beckoned and called to something inside of me. Something that desperately wanted to be freed. I had been staring out the window with Trevor, and for all intents and purposes, it appeared as though the gods and unleashed their holy fury upon the land. Rain the size of my fist pelted the earth, and the wind whipped it about, howling and roaring in displeasure. I hadn't cared, though. The dripping water called to me, singing a siren's song, and I was going to answer it.

So I crept outside with Trevor in tow, closed the door silently behind me, and together we ran out into the torrent.

Even though the wind was cold, and it battered at my body, and within seconds I became soaked - I didn't care.

Together, he and I had danced, skipped about, and run around screaming our delight.

When the storm finally passed, we both filed inside. Big, goofy grins were plastered on both of our faces - and Mama was waiting for us, an amused smile on her own lips. She tried to give us a mock-stern lecture, but it had been a gentle scolding, and it was over quickly. That was a good memory that I had, and I intended to keep it.

As I walked alongside my friend, another smile twisted my lips. Mama and Nana were alive - my memories told me so. There was no way that they were gone.

"What are you thinking about?" Trevor asked me, and I looked at him, the smile gaining more life on my face. It was rare that Trevor wasn't able to discern my thoughts.

"Just wondering where Nana and Mama were hiding." I fessed, giving our surroundings a very brief glance, "We haven't seen Nana since the mall, but. . ."

I trailed off as I saw the expression on Trevor's face. He had met my eyes, and then looked away sharply. There was something about the lines that were suddenly etched onto his face, and the way he was so tense - I didn't like it.

"Don't worry about it," His tense voice told me, "I'm sure we'll find Nana soon."

He looked back at me then, and smiled.

For some reason, though, I thought I was looking at a face full of pain.

Prompty ignoring the notion, I shoved it into a box and refused to acknowledge it again. Trevor wasn't in any pain, because he knew Mama and Nana were still alive. If he thought otherwise, he would've told me by now. We shared no lies between us, because here, lies could mean death. Besides, he knew the truth as well as I did. In fact, as I turned to look back at Trevor, opening my mouth to ask him where he think we might begin to look for the both of them - I stopped. Closed my mouth.

He was staring at the ground as we walked, a painful glaze over his eyes, disguising his thoughts. I could not tell what he was thinking.

Instantly, guilt crashed into my gut. Not once had I ever considered that Trevor could be worried about his own family. . . God. I was so selfish sometimes.

The cinema came into view, and we hurried inside to rid ourselves of the backpacks and extra gear. As we crawled into our safe haven, I promptly forgot any and all thoughts pertaining to our families.

I set to work changing my bandages, wincing as I found some of my skin had cracked and small amounts of blood and fluid had stained the underside. Gross. However, I was quick to wrap up my arm and stick new bandages onto my face before we went to bed tonight. I hated going to bed with dirty bandaging.

"I have a surprise for you!" Trevor suddenly chirped, and I looked over at him, interested. He was grinning at me like an idiot, "Close your eyes!"

"Trevor, I only have one eye to open right now." I told him, unable to resist the small stab at humor.

"You get my point," He said, tone suddenly exasperated.

I shook my head and rolled my eye, before closing it. I jumped slightly when he threw something into my lap, and then opened up my eye again to see what he'd given me.

"Woah!" I said, a thrill running through me, "Here I thought that almost all of them were crushed! Where did you find it?" My fingers eagerly inspected the plastic and buttons.

"On my run this morning. I didn't stop long enough to grab any batteries or CD's, though. . ."

I didn't care. I'd make up for that.

For somehow, against all odds, my friend had managed to find two brand-new CD players.

Which was a blessing, as we hadn't been able to listen to music in over four weeks.

I got up and retrieved a backpack, emptying it out save for a notebook, pen, and medical kit.

"Alright. I'm going to go run over to a music store and go grab some supplies. Stay here and get dinner ready, okay?"

"'Kay." He replied, busying himself with the task.

All saddled up within five minutes, I checked my watch.

8:32 P.M.

A patrol was not due in these parts a little more than two hours from now. Plenty of time to go there and get back here. With the rainclouds, and the time, nighttime was already begin to cast shadows over the land. It was now turning into fall - I could tell.

Summer had slipped away as easily as sand between my fingers.

I waved goodbye to Trevor, telling him I'd be back in two hours, tops. I was armed with a backpack, and several LED flashlights made of metal. Which I would only use when I was inside of the building, scanning the racks for CD's. I crawled out of the rubble surrounding the cinema, and was instantly hit by several fat droplets of water on my face. I smiled to myself, having that odd scent of water mixing with asphalt filling the air around me.

I began my long hike, keeping my eye and ear peeled for any signs of more surprise patrols. It was quiet, besides the sound of the rain slowly building and my own hushed footsteps sliding along rubble. It seemed that my trek was going to be a quiet one - and I was happy about that. Something inside of me twinged, trying to tell me not to leave Trevor behind, but I ignored it. How else was dinner - as meager as it would be - get done?

It took me a good forty minutes to get to a store that looked to fit the bill. It was a rather large department store, and the charred and broken sign on it read, "_Music! Movies! More!_" I'd been here, once or twice with Nana and Mama. They had so many CD's, it was hard to even try and estimate a number. Unfortunately for me, though, the entire parking lot had been thrown onto the front of the store. It took me a good five minutes to find a hole for me to dig open more, and another two for me to squirm inside.

My feet hit tile, and I brushed my hands on my jeans before I even dared to touch the bandage that covered my eye. There was no light inside of the store, but that was fine by me. In the dark, I fumbled with the backpack, but eventually I withdrew the heavy flashlight and flicked it on.

Bleack.

The entire store was in chaos, with smashed cases and DVD containers littering the floor. I I wasn't mistaken, there was even a butchered corpse splayed over one of the registers. I grimaced, and scurried forward, eager to find the CD isle. It didn't take long. Another silly smile lit up my face, and with my impaired vision, I began to work out the genres and titles.

I spent a good chunk of time, humming to myself, perusing the titles and artists. A lot of it was pop, and silly soundtracks from Disney movies. There was a lot of rock, too, and I busied myself grabbing popular bands, a few rare find that I absolutely adored, and even going so far as to get Trevor a few country CD's.

Yes. Trevor liked _some _country.

While I liked rock.

Yet somehow, we still became friends.

By the time I was finished, the backpack was bulging, and there was just enough space left for some batteries and headphones. Which, to my convenience, were right at the end of the isle. I made sure to grab more than was necessary (for the survivor inside of me would not let me do otherwise), and then I was finished. Nodding my head to myself, I zipped up the backpack, and shouldered it.

Trusty flashlight in hand, I began my trek to the front of the store. A yawn split the hinges of my jaw, and I took a brief glance at the watch on my wrist. I winced - I only had thirty minutes to get back before Trevor freaked out and came looking for me. I didn't mind. I'd be able to scurry back to our hideout, and then we'd be able to listen to our beloved music.

Something that would help soothe away most of the bad thoughts that lurked in our minds.

_Crack. _

I heard the unmistakable sound of glass being stepped on, and every muscle in my body locked up. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and my gut was telling me I was no longer alone. Now, I knew paranoia from instinct - and instinct was now telling me that I had company. Unless the monsters had created invisible, stealthy kind of their breed, then I knew that monsters were not my present guests.

That left a human.

Another survivor, perhaps. But who knew what kind of mentality they had slipped into? Maybe they thought _I _was a monster. Maybe they were insane. . . I didn't know.

So I doubled my pace, eager to get out of the store, not wanting to risk an encounter with an unknown person in a pitch-black store. I was nearly jogging, being less careful of what lied on the floor or was in my path, and this turned to be my downfall.

My foot landed on something solid, but it rolled, and I lost my balance. I fell onto the tile that coated the store, my flashlight bouncing from my hand. Unluckily, I'd also landed on my right side, and pain was now lancing up my arm, body protesting the accident. For a moment I laid there, blinking away the disorientation I was feeling, and getting my body in proper working order. In the dim light surrounding the metal flashlight, I saw the sleek black metal.

_I need to get it. _

It was still on, and looked wholly undamaged. This was a good thing.

I froze again when I saw a gloved hand slowly reaching out for it.

Fresh fear washed through all of my systems. I held my breath, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight. Another hand - a human hand - was reaching out for the very object that I had dropped. Still paralyzed, my eyes tried to trace the hand back to the owner. I was pretty sure that I saw a faint outline of an arm, and the crouched countenance of another person. I could not see anything beyond that, too far in the dark they were.

The fingers wrapped around the flashlight, and the slow, gentle care, offered it back to me.

My mind reeled, and all the voices in my head were screaming at me to run away. But I was locked up on the floor, incapable of moving. This was the first human contact - besides Trevor - that I had had in four weeks. On top of that, they were inside of a pitch dark store with me, and I surely wouldn't be able to fight them off if they intended ill things. The figure shifted again, extending the flashlight out further to me, encouraging me to take it wordlessly.

I saw something glow, and a as they leaned further into the flashlight's beam of light, I caught the telltale lines of a gun, cradled to their person. And it was glowing.

Any gun that glowed like the monster's guns was all the proof I needed to get the hell out of there.

Like a bat out of hell, I scrambled up to my feet and ran to the entrance, climbing up over the blockage and beginning to weasel out of the small hole I'd created.

I heard the person giving chase, beginning to scale the same wreckage I was.

I cursed myself mentally, not wanting to get caught by this mysterious person. My frame finally managed to squeeze through the hole, but the backpack caught. This time I gave a little noise as I pried at it, hearing the person coming closer and closer. . . The backpack wrenched free, a long rip developing in its side. I was beyond caring at that point, however. I turned my back to the hole, and I bounced into the parking lot, scrambling over holes in the asphalt, sliding and jumping over cars and piles of debris as I crossed them.

There was a car that was on the sidewalk. It was miraculously upright and unharmed, but I didn't care. I crawled underneath of it, shoving the backpack inside of the hiding space with me. I heard the unmistakable crack of a CD case giving way, and closed my eyes against the sound. Under the car, it just succeeded in making a sound rather akin to a gunshot.

I stifled the noise of my breathing and started to count.

Instead of going to a hundred, I doubled it. When I finished, I opened my eyes. Peacful, silent nighttime stretched all around me. Slowly, and painstakingly slowly, I crawled out from under my hiding place. I scanned the parking lot, but found nothing. No sign of a person anywhere. Taking this as a good sign, I slipped the backpack back onto my shoulders and gave the parking lot one more scan before I got to my feet.

My flashlight beam hit my chest, and I blinked, surprised. Nobody was holding it.

Indecision tore at me.

Get it, or leave it?

_I need all the flashlights. In proper working order_, one voice in my head told me, _plastic flashlights aren't as strong as metal ones. _

_It could be a trap! _Another voice countered, _we shouldn't go get it. We should just go back to Trevor. Tell him we lost it. _

I took in a deep breath, and finally decided to go get the flashlight. We couldn't afford to lose the precious metal flashlights - or any flashlights, for that matter. So quietly, all senses on full alert, I made my way over to an upturned car, where the flashlight had been placed. It was a good hundred feet away from me, and I took my sweet time creeping over to it. Whoever the hell I had encountered - they were damned fast. And silent. I hadn't heard them while I had been under the car, and that was rare.

Upon reaching the flashlight, I wrapped my own fingers around it and prepared to bolt, unwilling to wait around any longer.

Until the flashlight ran over something laying next to it.

This made me pause, and run the beam of light over the object. Instantly, disbelief coursed through me.

Rations.

Military rations!

What did it mean? Had I just run into somebody from the military? Or had the survivor thought to make up for his misgivings, and leave me food? I puzzled over this for a good minute or so before I swept up the rations packet and full-out sprinted out of the parking lot. I didn't bother to check my watch or cover up my injured eye.

Rain was now beginning to come down in a steady stream, and within minutes I became soaked, but I didn't stop. I carried the ration and the flashlight in my arms, the backpack making a clatter as it bounced with every step that I took. It didn't take me very long to run all the way back the cinema - but then again, I wasn't being very careful, either. I took the "back door" route, a trail Trevor and I had forged when we thought we were being followed - or if we were paranoid.

I didn't rest until my heart was fluttering, and every breath I took turned into a laboring chore. Around that time, the cinema came into view, and I scrambled over the rubble, entering the building. My right arm and eye were throbbing horribly, and parts of my vision were speckled with bits and pieces of heavy, white fog. I jogged further into the building, proceeding to the ruined screen rooms, and the _Infected _poster blared back at me as I stared at it. I stopped there, taking a deep breath and running my fingers through wet and matted brown hair. When I looked halfway-presentable, I opened the door and entered the room. My feet ate the red-carpeted walkway up with longer strides than what I was used to, and I entered the suddenly too-bright light cast from the laterns.

Trevor turned to me, an easy smile on his face, but it faded instantly when he saw me. He looked at me, jacknifing to his feet in alarm as he stared at me.

"Where did you get that? What happened? Cyra, are you alright?"

I looked down at the ration in my arms, and the scratched metal flashlight that was still on. I remembered everything that had happened to me in the store, and when I looked back up at Trevor, I tried to let my mind process the right words. Finally, I said:

"Trevor. . . I don't think we're alone anymore."


	6. Search and Rescue, I

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Resistance: Fall of Man franchise. For those with intentions of stealing: beware. You will be crushed under the Titan's melee attack, causing instant death. You have been warned.

**Rating**: M for mature. Mature themes will emerge later on in the story. ( Currently the rating has been knocked down to T.)

**Notes: **Here is the first part of Search and Rescue. I am a cruel mistress, aren't I? Who knows, maybe I'll be nice and release the second part of the chapter later on today. . . Like, after this one.

* * *

"_Every night  
We're all alone  
Every night  
My only hope  
Is the light that's shining from inside you  
'cause you believe in what we are  
You believe in what we'll be  
Give me strength so I can stand beside you_

No truths to confirm  
No lies to deny  
Too hopeless to care  
We're too scared to cry."

- t. A. T. u, "_You and I._"

* * *

The fingernail on my thumb was now a very worn-down nub. I tasted dirt and gunk in my mouth - a few pieces of this or that were crushed beneath my teeth as I ground them in fear. My right eye was beginning to throb and ache, my skin still tingling from the desperate maneuvers I'd taken earlier that evening. My right arm was numb, but honestly that was the least of my worries right now. I was more worried about my stomach, which had twisted and cramped up into tight knots. It got worse with every second that I stared at the ground. That horrid, accursed object that was blindingly horrible. I felt my eyes narrow into a tight glare. The rations pack glinted back at me innocently from the floor. I had thrown it there after Trevor had sqwaked in surprise.

"Maybe," Trevor hedged lightly, "It was there all along?"

I nodded my head, throwing him a half-hearted gaze full of hope.

"Yeah. Maybe my adrenalin just got to me or something." My voice cracked lightly at the statement, and I thought over the night's activities.

Everything seemed to be slipping suddenly from my hands, all with one rash movement. How is it that the bottom was falling out _now_, right when we had been accepting everything that had happened? An apocalypse had occured, okay. No problem. A little earlier than what the Myans had predicted with their 2012 nonsense, but it had happened nonetheless. Now, the wonderful bubble of safety I had managed to eke out of this hellish world had gone _pop _within two hours. . . And I honestly had now idea how to fix it again.

The innocent rations pack that was laying before us had ruined what I had known of the world. The monsters making an appearance had been the first time. Now this was the second.

Trevor suddenly sighed, and I glanced at him from the corner of my eyes. He was seated on a seat (some stool or another), and fiddling with his hands.

"It's just not possible. If that makes us feel any better, it's not possible. There. All better," He huffed, probably trying to lighten the mood, but I could detect a slight tremor underneath his voice. It scared me, too. Made the inside of me tremble with renewed fear. If people were introduced back into the equation - especially _military _- then I had no qualms with being terrified, "See, look. It won't hurt me. . ."

He bent over to brush his fingers against it. His hand shook lightly, and then he hesitated. Thinking better of his idea, he withdrew his hand and nudged it ever so lightly with his foot. I didn't blame him for not wanting to touch it. Briefly I wondered what Trevor would have done had he been in my shoes at the music store. I glanced down again and found the rations pack was still sitting there. Unexpectedly, irritation and anger welled up inside of me. There was no way a rations pack could somehow endanger our safety at the Regal. Wanting to prove to myself that the food pack could not, I angrily kicked out at it with my foot. Out of the corner of my eye, I found Trevor tensing, and that made me tense - suddenly thinking that I had picked the wrong them to take my anger out on. I stared down at the rations pack again, suddenly finding my own muscles tensing.

It did not explode. Nor did it grow legs and begin to run off. It was just a regular rations pack, probably filled with military-grade dehydrated slop.

I sighed audibly.

"I can't take this anymore." Trevor growled, hitting a table loudly with his fist. It made me jump slightly, and my heart skipped a beat, to be honest. I was used to quiet, uneventful nights.

In truth, I couldn't either. Trevor and I had once entertained a short discussion about what we'd do if the military came into South Hill. It had followed shortly after our grand plans to escape (which had never worked). The topics and possibilities that had come up were not good at all. For a good hour or so, we'd heckled each other with questions about the monsters and the military. Where had the monsters come from? Maybe they were super soldiers gone wrong? The armor and guns that they held were alien in technology. So, maybe we thought they were Area 51 runaways. Maybe they _were _aliens. Maybe this happened, or maybe that. . . We hadn't known. We'd speculated, of course, but that's all it had been. Speculations.

Our biggest fear involving the military was what they would do if and after they'd found us.

Trevor and I had been terrified at the thought of military. Maybe this was just some horrible experiment designed by the military, and after a certain period of time, they would soon terminate it and kill off every living thing inside of it. Maybe this was something akin to the _Resident Evil _franchise? Or _Prototype. _had the military formed their own Blackwatch unit, designed to eliminate the biological threat and any civilians caught in the hot zone?

We didn't know.

That was what scared us the most.

"Whatever," I finally added, ". . . Just, whatever. We'll burn it tomorrow or something."

He nodded, seeming to like the idea immensely.

"I made food. Let's eat it." He added, gesturing to a meager dinner he'd made.

I moved robotic-ally, following orders as I seated myself. I didn't have the will to tell him I wasn't hungry. My stomach repelled the thought of food right now, especially since it was canned something-or-other. I tried not to pay attention to what it was. I ate it, though, knowing that my body needed it to survive. It was tasteless, and cold, but I was too preoccupied to care. We ate in silence, our thoughts nearly tangible in the air between us. I knew very well what was still on our minds. The fear in our bodies was there, too, thick as molasses and running through my veins withou anything to hold it back. As I ate, I stared at the rations pack behind me. some part of me still expected me to witness it sprout arms and legs and then attack me. It didn't. It was static, all sharp angles and military lines pressed down onto dehydrated goods. Even in the weak light, and with one eye covered, I could read what the sharp black letters on the package read.

SPAGHETTI.

How gross would eating dehydrated noodles be? I'd had some Top Ramen and the like before, but it was so long ago, in a time where I lived with a woman that I call mother. I did have a sneaking suspicion that I didn't want to find out how disgusting those kinds of packets could be. _Poor military people_, I thought secretly to myself, _maybe that's why the government gives them that disgusting crap to make them mean and aggressive. . . _Maybe. After their stomachs had hardened to steel, of course. Something clicked in my head, and a revelation lit up my day. Everybody in the military was forced to eat incredibly disgusting dehydrated food, probably laced with hormones and steroids, and that is what made them so aggressive! Man. . . Why hadn't I thought of that before? It seemed so perfect.

"Hey Trevor," I commented lightly, "I think I figured something out."

"Uh?" He responded, his way of saying, _yeah_?

"People in the military are really mean and grumpy because of the rations."

My friend stopped what he was doing, lifted his head up slowly, and then locked gazes with me. I attempted to give him a smile, but the only response I got from him was a curious question of, _what are you smoking? _

He sighed, somewhat exasperated with me, and then chuckled, "Sometimes, Cyra, you just amaze me." He finally replied, rocking back and standing up, stretching. Joints popped and cracked beneath his skin, and I envied him. Most of my muscles refused to bend or go very far much. I needed a physical therapist, though, that was for damned sure. And an optometrist. That wasn't to happen anytime soon, though, because most of them were dead here, in South Hill. . . Trevor was staring at my face, then, his eyes roving over the disgusting bandage patched over my right eye. In that moment, he looked critical and harsh - not like my friend at all. But I stared right back, knowing what he was about to say.

"What?" I finally bit out, tired of the silence stretching between us.

He hesitated for a moment - only a moment - unwilling to let the words leave his lips. Finally, though, he seemed to cave.

"Look, uh. . . I could help you with your bandages, you know. They're covered in dirt."

At this, I glanced down at myself, wondering if it was _that bad. _Inwardly I grimaced, because it was. Most of my clothes were waterlogged, and streaked with mud and dirt. The bandages had turned red in places were wounds had opened, and streaked with brown and bits of gravelly bits in others. It looked horrible. _I thought a boy wasn't supposed to mention to a girl how bad she looks? _A mental snicker accompanied the thought directly afterwards. Trevor wasn't just any guy. He was my brother, and my dearest friend. I wasn't afraid to give him a lot of slack. . . And as such, I accepted that he was telling me I looked pretty disgusting if the end result was me being healthy again.

"I'll be just fine, Trevor. . . I can handle it myself."

Trevor grunted, and then got up and rummaged around. He tossed me a medical kit, "Go on, then. I want us to go to bed early tonight, 'kay?"

I got up to my feet, previous irritation forgotten. Unable to help myself, I even gave him a mock salute, "Yes, sir, Mr. Tyrant Sir!" I snapped in a pseudo-military voice.

He sighed again, giving me another one of those exasperated looks and stomped off, play-anger clouding his face. I smiled, and unable to help myself, I giggled. Kind of like a shy little schoolgirl, and after the sound had managed to hit the air, I was a little embarrassed. I hadn't giggled like that since I was a little girl. Getting to my feet, I stretched lightly, too, trying to relieve some of the tenseness that was still inside of my body. I reluctantly set off for our little "changing area," medical kit in hand. Our changing area wasn't anything more than a a whole bunch of towels hung up from a little rigging job. It had only taken about twenty minutes to construct, and it provided us with a bit of privacy should we want to change. . . But it wasn't really used for us to change our clothes. More often than not, I found myself alone in the little room, using it as a place to change out the bandaging that covered most of my torso. In all honesty, it was because I never wanted Trevor to see the way my body was. He'd had more than enough of his fill by taking care of my injuries - I could take care of myself just fine now.

I shuffled inside, an eletric battery-powered latern offering light. I closed the curtain door and then sat down on a small chair that was there. With slightly-numb fingers, I gently pried the bandage off of my right eye, and with somewhat cloudy vision, I began the precarious procedure of unwrapping the bandages. It took me a long while to do it - I'd really beat myself up earlier that night, and most of the crud I'd rolled around in had managed to get underneath the medical tape and gauze pads. I snapped open the medical kit and drew out disinfectant. Gently dabbing the scar tissue, scabs and injuries, I make sure the cotton ball I was using was soaked through with hydrogen peroxide. Upon coming into contact with my skin, it bubbled and fizzled, cleaning out whatever had managed to get into my skin. A few times I hissed as the peroxide stung, but those times were few and far away, thankfully. After that was done, I decided it would be a good thing to flush it out with some rubbing alcohol, and I regretted it almost instantly. Good to stop an infection, but it _stung. _Without much thought, I began to wrap it back up, feeling a little disheartened by what I'd seen under the once-white wrappings.

I knew that all those weeks ago, a bomb had shredded the mall apart. Nana had gotten out, of this I was sure - but I certainly hadn't been that lucky. The force from the blast had picked me up in the air, twisted me around like a doll, and then ha d dumped me on the ground. I'd been dragged across the asphalt, so on top of serious burns, my skin looked as though somebody had taken me to a cheese grater. Trevor had preoccupied himself with keeping us safe, and it was no wonder that almost all of wounds had gotten infected. Her friend had been a genius, using the Regal as their base, but he didn't exactly have the medical expertise that I did, so I was lucky that I still had all of my damn limbs.

Though all of my wounds were continually getting infected. . . It was like there was something wrong with my immune system. The burns and bruises and cuts had healed over, but it was taking an excruciating amount of time. My guess was that maybe I was not receiving medical care, or there had been something inhuman about the bomb. I couldn't figure it out. The worst of all of it seemed to be over, and finally fading away. Of course, I now had a very impressive scaring all around my right arm, across the right side of my chest, and most of the right part of my face. It stopped at my lower ribs, though - which was a plus.

Way back when, when life had been nothing but a piece of cake, I had thought that I looked very unappealing.

Now, with my body rapidly whittling down to nothing, and severe scarring marring a lot of my skin, I knew that I was a far cry from what I used to be.

My hands stilled as I was winding up ribbons of dirty bandages.

I was here, in the most hellish place on Earth, with my best friend. We avoided death by the horrible monsters that constantly patrolled the area, and I was sitting in our changing room, worrying about what I looked like. Closing my eyes, I battled back a wave of guilt that washed through me. How could I be so vain? I should be worrying about my friend's safety. . . God, how horrible was I on the outside? I was so selfish and vain, it disturbed me. Wasn't it in the face of great adversity that humankind brought out its best traits? This felt like a lie. I had never once asked Trevor how he felt, if he wanted to try a more elaborate escape plan so we could go out and find his family. How horrible of a friend was I, unable to consider his needs?

_Didn't I already think about this earlier today? _

"Cyra?" Trevor's voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts. I whirled around, instantly clamping an arm over my bare chest, shrinking against the far side of the little space.

"What?" My voice quivered, betraying some of my emotions, and I silently prayed he didn't opened up the curtain. Even mostly covered, I couldn't bear to have him see the way I was. I'd rather die first.

"You forgot these." His arm poked through, offering me a new set of pajamas. I accepted them, managing to squeak out a thank you before I began to do a hasty wrap-up job. I plastered some bandages on, followed by some medical tape that was designed to stick to itself. I was glad when I finally got to the PJ's, though. They were nice, loose things - warm cotton, actually. They felt dry and great on my cold skin, and I felt glad.

I stepped out barefoot, padding over to our little sleeping space, where I saw Trevor's ghostly pale skin changing just out of range from the latern's light. I looked away, giving him some privacy, and simply crawled into bed, no longer wanting to think about the day's events anymore. I felt mentally and emotionally exhausted, my right eye was still throbbing and a tingling sensation passing over my right side. Curling up into a small ball, I slid my arm under the pillow and tried to will my body to relax. A few beats passed, and then Trevor was slipping into place next to me. Silence reigned as I did my best to try and slip off into sleep.

"Y'know," He commented quietly, "You're a horrible girl to sleep with."

"You would know, you've slept with so many girls," I mumbled back, surprised to find my voice thick with drowsiness. Beside me, I heard Trevor give a little stutter. Trevor and his weird pre-sleep talk. We'd once discussed some weird entry he had seen on Wikipedia once. Pink Invisible Unicorns or something of the sort.

"You wound me. . . But no, seriously, you do. You abuse me - I wake up because you kick me sometimes." He told me in a tone that almost made him sound like he wanted an apology.

"Eh." I replied, in a noncommittal tone.

He shifted lightly, and I tried my best not to sigh. Every night, before he went to sleep, Trevor had some major issues _falling _asleep. Usually it amounted to me finally telling him to leave me alone or else. This, gratefully, did not seem to be one of those nights. For thankfully, Trevor did not seem to want to talk much more beyond that, and he sighed back. I mumbled something along the lines of, "thank god" and he snorted at me. I shifted around, rolling onto my back, but my mind was going farther and farther away. In the back of my mind, though, I could still see the rations pack in all of its military newness.

It still laid there, like some dirty little secret, and I felt a shiver crawl down my spine again.

My little world had been destroyed once again, and it seemed like this time, I wasn't going to be able to fix it.

* * *

My eyes snapped open, and I found a sense of dread was filling my stomach.

I gasped, feeling tangled and held down. I bolted up stiffly, throwing back the covers that seemed to be suffocating me. My heart was fluttering madly in my chest, and I breathed in deeply, trying to calm myself. A nightmare. It had been horrible, but every time I tried to reach for what had happened, it slipped from my grasp. For this, I was pretty grateful, because I had a nagging feeling that I didn't want to remember what had happened. . . I wrenched over to the side, looking for Trevor. My hands landed on flat covers beside me. My dread intensified ten fold - followed shortly by rage. He was gone. He was _gone. _I found myself springing up, yanking off all of my clothing and jerking up a new outfit. At least before that _bastard _of a friend had left, he'd laid out our outfits for the next day. . . I hastily slipped on some heavy cargo pants and a long-sleeved shirt, absently noticing that the pants were tan and the shirt was black. That made a ghost of a smile pop onto my face, despite the utter fury coursing through me. At least I'd be able to blend in the wee hours of the morning while I hunted down my friend and choked him to death.

I made quick to snatch up a backpack, and I shoved it over my shoulders and grabbed a flashlight. I sat there, frozen in rage as I tried to convince myself to move. My idiot of a friend had decided to run off without waking me up again. In fact, I wasn't even sure how that was _possible._ I was so sensitive in bed now, I seemed to wake up at the slightest sound.

_You didn't hear him creep out last time. _A snide voice in my head smugly proclaimed.

_Shut the hell up_, I snapped right back, finally spurring myself back into motion.

I edged out of the screen room, fingers lightly trailing over the poster of _Infected_. The theater was dark, and far too quiet. I didn't like it. All of the hairs on my body were standing on end, as though there were a monster standing behind me, poised to strike. . . No. No, no. I shook my head, tiptoeing down the hall as I pressed myself against the wall as hard as I could. No monsters were in the theatre with me. Just myself. . .

A low murmur of voices suddenly drifted down the hall. About three voices, maybe. But they were decidedly _human _voices.

Fear washed through me, and I felt my eyes widen. Oh, shit. The _military. _They must have tracked me yesterday. They were probably here to take Trevor and me away, experiment on us - interrogate us. _Kill us. _They were going to ask us how we'd been here for so long, and wonder how we had managed to survive. I bit the inside of my cheek, hard. My breath was suddenly coming fast, the entire dark hallway spinning around me. Everything was spiraling out of control. I couldn't stop it. Trevor had disappeared, and now the military was here - I suddenly found that all of my anger that I had been harboring previously vanished in a wild flash. But somehow, through the nasty tangle of emotion, betrayal somehow managed to sneak through the snarl of feelings. Why couldn't the military man I'd run into yesterday just stayed quiet about where we were? Trevor and I had been doing just fine. . .

_Think on your feet. Hide. _My mind told me, surprisingly calm. Despite the anxiousness I was feeling, for some reason, this seemed to snap me out of the hysterical thoughts that had been thrashing through my mind. I peered around me, willing the world to stop spinning around me. There. On the other side of the hallway. I could hide there, in a half-destroyed entryway. There seemed just enough space for me to squeeze into it. . . I was quick to move to the other side of the hallway, and I worked myself (and the backpack) I was wearing into the tight space, but it was hard. I made noise, and I hoped to God that it just was very quiet. Lady Luck, however, seemed to be smiling down kindly on me, for the men drew closer, and I held my breath, but no invasive hands shot into my hiding place. The shadowy figures paused at the _Infected _poster before they cracked open the door and were greeted by a faint glimmer of light. Without another word, they entered through the doorway.

_There goes my safe haven_, I thought, somewhat crestfallen as the men entered the room.


	7. Search and Rescue, II

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Resistance: Fall of Man franchise. For those with intentions of stealing: beware. You will be crushed under the Titan's melee attack, causing instant death. You have been warned.

**Rating**: M for mature. Mature themes will emerge later on in the story. ( Currently the rating has been knocked down to T.)

**Notes: **As promised, here is the second part of Search and Rescue. You all thought I was going to keep you hanging, didn't you? Haha. Normally I'd object to a lowly 4K count, but since it's so long, I don't think you guys would mind if I broke it up into two sections. Enjoy Part II of S&R!

* * *

"_Every night,  
We're all alone  
Every night,  
My only hope  
Is the light that's shining from inside you.  
Cause you believe in what we are,  
You believe in what we'll be,  
Give me strength so I can stand beside you._

_No truths to confirm  
No lies to deny  
Too hopeless to care  
We're too scared to cry._"

- t. A. T. u, "_You and I._"

* * *

I didn't sit to mourn its loss for very long. I wasn't about to let the people in the military capture me and experiment on my body. I might have been a nurse, but there was no way in hell that I was going to let my body be donated to science. I still had to find Trevor, and we needed to get the hell out of South Hill. Wriggling out of my hiding space, I jogged down the hallway as silently as a could, my heart about to burst in my chest, my ears straining to pick up any kind of sound. My mind reeled for Trevor, searching the building for any sign of his presence. I found none. Had he made it outside? Was he waiting there for me, and all I had to do was sneak away from the military. . .

I turned to face the wreckage, and was promptly blinded by a flashlight beam. Jerking in surprise, I flinched away from it. Somebody sitting there noisily got up to their feet. In an instant, I knew it was not Trevor. My friend's footsteps did not sound nearly that heavy. Fear coiled in my gut, and without thinking, I launched myself down the other hallway, away from the flashlight beam and away from the other men. I ran hard, fast - and I heard someone else behind me. Adrenalin poured into my blood, and suddenly I found I could run even faster, I could _escape. _

I very nearly tripped and fell, repeating yet another repeat of what had happened yesterday. Luckily though, I caught my balance just in time and managed to save myself from a very ungraceful face-plant onto the floor. My heartbeat was thundering in my ears as I continued to run, throwing myself over and under debris. This part of the Regal had been nearly destroyed - Trevor and I hadn't used it for much of anything. All too soon, however, my run came to a very abrupt halt. There was nowhere else for me to go. This part of the hallway had caved in. I skittered to a stop, my body tingling with energy and emotions as I tried my best to think of a creative solution. How to esape and get the hell out of there.

Behind me, the sound of footfalls stopped. I closed my eyes momentarily, realizing the man that had been chasing me had stopped.

"Hey," He said, voice calm and pitched towards soothing, "It's okay. We're not here to hurt you."

_Yeah, right. And I'm still dreaming. _

I paused at that momentarily. I sincerely hoped that this was all some weird nightmare.

The man stepped closer, and in the distance, I could hear more footsteps coming this way. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I could hear a voice gibbering mindlessly, trying to whip me up into a terrified frenzy. Without thinking, I tore off the bandage that laid over my right eye. My vision instantly became a lot clearer, and although I heard another footstep behind me, drawing ever closer, making my heart race and my pulse thunder in my ears. A way out. I needed one. I needed to find one before they grabbed me and sedated me. . . My imagination was running wild.

"We're here to help you get out." He continued, low voice sounding a lot closer.

A hand gently brushed up against my shoulder, and I freaked out. My body flinched away, and my hand slapped away the other limb, and I whirled around to face my would-be captor for the first time. Even in the dark, my eyes had adjusted in record speed, and now I could see him. Most of what was there was hidden underneath BDU's and a tactical jacket. Most of his face was covered - except for his eyes. I could see his eyes. A military hardness was reflected there, but so was an odd glimmer of. . . Of something I couldn't place. I didn't want to think about it. The other footsteps were suddenly close, and I knew I only had precious seconds to escape. Seconds that were slipping away.

The man edged a little closer, "Don't worry. . . Nobody here is going to hurt you." His voice was calm, and gentle, and soothing. Too bad I didn't buy a second of it.

It clicked in my brain - a single second, and I had my answer. Without much pretense, the backpack I was wearing got shrugged off of my shoulders. If I wanted to escape, then it would have to stay behind. The man looked at me, and even under all of the gear he was wearing, I could see his body tensing.

"Please don't." He told me.

I did. I took two huge steps off to the right, and then I launched myself at the wall. Rubble closed around me, and fighting back a momentary wave of claustrophobia, I wriggled my body, forcing my limbs to move and find space even though there was none. My hand broke out cold air, and I grasped cut glass and rusty nails and broken wood in order to pull myself up. Further. My second hand joined, and I pulled with so much strength my arms shook. I was halfway out of the damned hole when I felt a strong hand wrap around my calf. Giving out a small cry of surprise, I twisted around, beginning to thrash and yank with all of my might. His other hand joined the first, and my struggles became all the more frantic as he tugged, pulling me down. The outside world began to slip away as he tugged me down with all of his strength - my own feeble strength was barely able to match, I was sure.

So I kicked harder, but it seemed to be no avail. I was getting sucked back down into the claustrophobic hole I'd struggled my way out of. Something sharp sliced up my leg - I felt a nice wetness beginning to spread on my pants, and I winced as pain flared to life in my side. Adrenalin fueled my efforts again, and with a quick chamber of my leg, I brought my foot down - hard. I heard the crunch of bone as my foot connected with his face, and his yelp of pain. His hands released my calf, and instantly I struggled out of his reach, swallowing hard. Against my better judgement, I twisted around while I was half-out of the hole, staring back down - into his face. He was looking up at me, a dark splotch on his mask. But he wasn't yelling at me in rage, nor was he glaring at me in some unsaid hatred. He was just looking at me. . .

Fear gripped me, froze me in place momentarily. No. Trick of the light.

A sound alerted me that I was not alone - I jerked myself out of the small hole, and I lurched up to my feet. I didn't bother placing the bandage back over my right eye, nor did I spare a moment to look at my right leg, where the injury lay. I just ran. Now that I was out, I was glad as hell that I was. I could locate Trevor and get us the hell out of there. I bit my cheek hard as I started to run, resorting to half-limping and dragging it as I continued onwards. I knew full well that I was bleeding, but the adrenalin inside of me was numbing the pain. _God_, I prayed inside of my head, _I know I do not believe in you, but please let Trevor be okay. _

I knew I wasn't going to be able to get far before I collapsed, or the men got to me. Still, I was not expecting to run away. I wanted to find Trevor. That was all - just find Trevor and everything would be okay again. . . Stitches began to run up my sides, and every step I took began to be a laboring chore. My vision clouded over in some parts, and each breath I took began to turn into liquid fire. The adrenalin was running out, it seemed. I felt my leg buckle, and with nothing around me to catch my fall, I finally collapsed onto the ground. I laid there, feeling lightheaded and woozy, breathing heavily. Why did it feel like all of my energy was suddenly gone? I could barely. . . Barely feel my limbs anymore.

Fear made me move again, along with desperation and hope. I needed to find Trevor and get the hell out of here. Before any of the military could get us, before anything happened. . . I struggled back up to my feet, pulling myself with rubble and more broken glass. My hands stung as the shards cut into them with ease, and I swallowed back pain that bit at me. _Have to keep on going_, I thought to myself, _I have to keep on going. _

I paused by the gap made my two small buildings, one of which was nearly destroyed. Just for a moment to catch my breath. I clutched at the bent frame of the building, doing my best to try and stay up. My vision was beginning to cloud over, and my leg was beginning to falter - it no longer wanted to hold my weight. I was surprised that I had gotten this far at all without being caught. My ankle began to trickle, and in confusion, I looked down. My right side was suffering quite abit under all of this, it seemed - my pants had been ripped a good six inches, and the cut echoed the amount of fabric ripped. Not bad, but not good, either. Especially considering the fact that it seemed pretty damn deep, too. Also not good. No wonder I was feeling woozy.

My body jerked into the gap created by the two buildings, and it took me a second to realize that I was going over the ground, and my feet weren't even moving. Confused, I looked down to see two arms linked over my waist, dragging me backwards. I sucked in air to scream, but a hand clamped up over my mouth, right as soon as I stopped moving and was crushed up against whoever the hell had dragged me. The hand tightened on my mouth, warning me not to do anything rash. I felt like biting whoever the hell it was.

"Shh," Whispered someone behind me, "They're here. Just be quiet for a moment."

I wondered what he meant by that, but I didn't wonder for very long. I stilled not but a moment later, stretching out my hearing. Sure enough, I heard the sound of a drone. I blanched, my fear redoubling. I couldn't help the way that I shrank back into him, as if that might solve my problem any. His grip instantly changed from restrictive to slightly more comforting.

"It's okay. They'll pass over in a moment." He murmured in my ear. I bit my cheek hard, tasting blood in my mouth. Where was Trevor? Where _was _he?

I watch as the drones began to pass in lazy sweeps, making that annoying humming noise they were so famous for. I closed my eyes, hands immediately gripping into fists. I had woken up to find my best friend gone, the military chasing me, and now the monsters were here.

"Just calm down," He murmured again, "We'll get you out of here in a-"

The drone turned to us, light strafing over the alley.

"-Oh, shit."

He released me in the next moment, roughly shoving me behind him and snapping a gun up to his eyes. I heard gunshots being fired, and I watched as the drone sparked and warbled before flopping down onto the ground uselessly. Almost instantly, roaring and angry snaps in a language I didn't understand followed. Oh god. Oh, _god. _No, not again. The military man was shooting at the monsters, but I knew they were going to kill him. I looked behind me, but only found a wall. Without my permission, my body began to shake like a leaf out in a storm. We were going to die out here. We were trapped, cornered like rats, and I was going to die before I'd even managed to find Trevor-

Hands grabbed me and forced me up to my feet. I knew I sounded like a whipped dog, but I yelped and shrank back from him, thinking - for some reason - that he was going to hit me.

"We don't have time for this!" He barked at me, all military discipline now, "Come on!"

That, I'm afraid, only made me worse. He reached for me and I flinched away, almost instantly regretting the action moments later. I wrenched my eyes shut and waited for him to hit me - or something. I was sure I didn't want to find out. Instead, a short beat of silence passed, and then he touched my arm lightly.

"I'm sorry, but we don't have time for this right now. We have to go meet Hawthorne, and it seems the Chimera aren't going to stand around waiting for us to move. So here's what you're going to do for me, okay?"

I bit my lip and looked at him, trying my best not to cry.

_God, how much of a whiny crybaby am I? _

"We're going to start running. And I need you to stay with me. Okay? No running off. Not unless I tell you. We're going to get you two out of here."

"T-Trevor? You h-have Trevor?" I croaked, my voice sounding nothing more than a weak whine to my own ears. He nodded, though, so I took that as a good thing.

I closed my eyes, then, and I swallowed - hard. I breathed in, out, in, out. _Do it to be with Trevor again. C'mon. Pull it together. _

Another roar split the air, and he wasted no time in grabbing my hand and beginning to drag me behind him. He moved fast, in a half-crouched position, and I followed, resisting every instinct inside of me to run away and never give him a second glance. But he said that they had Trevor, and it might've been stupid, but I believed him. If they had my friend, it would explain why he had not been there, why I hadn't seen him when I was running through the streets. . . Speaking of which, that was a very hard thing to do. I did my best to limp after him, but I couldn't keep it up. My leg was bleeding out too heavily, and for a long moment, my vision cobwebbed over with black. I fell onto the ground, actually seeming to slip on something.

I laid there, feeling quite content and unwilling to move. My eyes were closed, I preferred them that way, and every part of me was throbbing in muted pain. Reality drifted away for a moment, but came back when I felt somebody shaking me and swearing like a sailor.

"Goddamnit, I knew this was going to happen. Wake up, c'mon there, don't go to sleep. . ."

I tried to. I really, really did, but I simply didn't have the energy for it anymore. He swore (to me it sounded fairly like gibberish, in my opinion), and then I felt him picking me up, jostling my leg slightly. I couldn't help the small whine of pain I made. It hurt. Everything on my body hurt. Then he was moving, holding me and sprinting, but it didn't feel good at all. I managed to open my eyes, but that was about all I could do at the moment.

Everything felt. . . Surreal. Like I was walking through a dream, and nothing I reached out for would be solid. It would all slip through my fingers, no matter how hard I tried to grasp for it. _Trevor_, the thought echoed in my mind, _are you feeling the same thing right now? _

Something pinched me, and I winced as I felt a bite under my skin. Like some bug had somehow managed to crawl into one of my cuts and bite me from the inside. I wanted to slap at my arm - maybe even scratch my open wound - but int he next second, energy was flooding my dead limbs and I found myself lurching back to reality.

"Woah, woah! Calm down. Hold on a second. Just a shot to wake you up, calm down."

For a moment, my vision spun out of control. I wasn't able to see what was going on. But then it snapped back into place, and I blinked as I realized that I was seated on the ground, and a man was tending to my injuries. A medic? That seemed likely. I winced as he applied pressure and began to wrap.

"Sorry, I don't have anything for the pain. You'll be alright when we get to the camp."

_The camp? _I thought, frowning lightly. No. No, no.

"Where's Trevor?" I managed to say finally, wiping at my eyes lightly with bandaged hands. _I must've sliced them up worse than I thought. _

"He's with Warner's squad. Don't worry, you'll see each other again soon - he hasn't shut up about you, either." The medic told me. A wry smile graced his lips. I shook my head, trying to clear the drowsiness. I had no idea where we were, but judging from the rubble underneath me, we were still in South Hill.

"We've got fifteen before the transport gets here." Another male voice said off to the side. I turned my head to look - and was instantly greeted by the same man I had kicked in the face all of those minutes ago.

I swallowed hard when he looked at me. The medic seemed oblivious to this as he continued on with my wounds.

"You broke my nose." He said, in a quiet voice.

The medic taking care of me paused, and his hand fell onto my leg, giving it a little bit of a squeeze. Meant to be reassuring, no doubt. The man's serious demeanor probably had me looking like I was scared shitless. . . Not that it was far off from the truth, but still. Either that, or he was now looking at some unseen injury on my body.

"Hale," The medic said, "Please don't scare her off. We don't need to be chasing down another civvie through the streets."

The man - Hale - gave a light shrug as he went back to whatever he was doing, and I honestly couldn't tell what he was doing. That was probably a good thing, though, because I probably didn't want to know what they were planning on doing with me. Just so long as I could see Trevor again, though, I think I would be fine. Just so long as I could see my friend - one last time - I would be fine.

"Transport will be here in five minutes - we'll be airlifted." Hale offered, fiddling around with things inside of his pockets. . . And he had quite a few pockets. The medic went back to tending to me, and inwardly I wondered if I was that battered up. His fingers scraped at the bandage covering my eye, and instantly I flinched away from him.

"Hey. Don't worry. Just going to take a look under there. . ." He tried to reach for it again, but I batted his hand away.

"Please don't." I responded. He'd not only see the extent of my scarring, but he would also expose sensitive skin to a dangerous environment. The rough handling and annoying dashes and dives to hide had finally taken their toll. The skin was throbbing and aching there - so much so that a few tears were already dripping here and there.

". . . Fine. The medics will give you a full checkup when you get to the camp."

There must've been something on my face, because he patted my thigh in a somewhat sympathetic manner and gave me a bit of a smile. I decided that whoever this man was, I liked him. He was a kind medic, that was for certain. He was about to say something, but I shook my head lightly.

"As long as Trevor is there," I said quietly, "I'll be fine."

A wry smile appeared on his face as I answered him - finally - without fear. Amazing, how I could do it in one second, but then Hale looked at me again, and the fear went right back into place. I perked up when I heard an odd _chop-chop _sound, and realized that this must have been the transport they were talking about. A helicopter? Hale stood up and walked some distance off, tapping his ear and then talking to himself. The medic next to me began to help me sit up more, and I relied on him heavily for support. My leg no longer wanted to work for me. He wrapped one arm around my waist and hoisted up my other around his neck - and instantly I realized that he was _strong. _

I might not have been the heaviest thing in the bag, but he hefted me up almost as if I were as light as a feather. Hale motioned for the both of us, and the medic helped me to limp over to where Hale was standing.

"The VTOL is going to land right over-"

Something big, heavy, and metallic exploded. I flinched, wanting to reel backwards and find something to crawl under, but the medic held me steady.

We all watched in silence as a huge carcass of metal akin to a helicopter came crashing down in a spectacular fireball. Unknowingly, I flinched into the medic, clutching at him. Had trevor been on that aircraft? Had he been the one dying as it fell to the ground? Without a word, Hale was shooting off like a rocket, sprinting faster than I could ever dream over the landscape. Absently I nticed that he was running at speeds I had always considered inhumanly possible. _No wonder they got me so fast. . . No wonder. _

The medic was suddenly tugging me along, and then we were both running as he pulled me after him. My leg threatened to give out, but thankfully there was no pain - he must've given me some painkillers.

"W-Where are we-" I tried to call out, but almost ended up slipping in the process.

"We're going to meet up with Capelli's squad. Looks lke the damn Chimera set up an ambush." He growled as he steadied me and continued to pull me down a different direction.

_What is the Chimera? _I thought absently.

The man stopped on a dime, and I crashed into his back. I felt him freeze up, but then he was wrapping his arms around me and driving me down to the ground. Overhead, bullets streaked in orange-

(_people running and screaming, no way out, where is she?_)

- Reminding me of a similar event not but four weeks ago.

Roaring and snapping punctured the air, and I wrenched my eyes shut. I wouldn't be able to move, even if my life depended on it. I was frozen, my mind reeling back and forth without my permission. Past and present mixed together. Te man crushed me to him, covering up my frame with his larger one. Tears pricked at my eyes as I choked back a sob.

"_AUGER FIRE!" _A man screamed somewhere. Briefly I wondered what he meant, and why it was important-

But then it felt like somebody had just seared my left shoulder with a rusty knife. I screamed in agony as it tapered down to the feeling of lava in my blood, and I wrenched a hand free to feel my shoulder. Nothing. It was dead. I couldn't move my arm. My mouth stuttered, trying to form words, but it was no use. All that came to mind was pain. Pain, pain, _pain. _

The world screeched around me in a hail of gunshots and explosions, but I paid it no heed. After surviving a bomb blast, nearly getting killed on various occasions numeous times, my left arm was now useless. I could no longer feel it, I had no control over the limb. . . The man holding me suddenly loosened, moving away and then forcing me to sit up. A sickly green light was cast over my body, and something unusually _loud _was droning right next to my ear.

"Get her to the transport!" A voice snapped, and then more hands were grabbing me, picking me up. I allowed it, my body nothing more than a useless rag doll.

I was deposited a bit roughly onto a grated metal flooring. My head hit it pretty hard, and stars exploded through my vision. Ringing took over my hearing too, drowning everything out in an everlasting piercing whistle. Blearily I realized I was shaking, and still trying to figure out how to move my arm. Everything was slurring in and out of focus around me - absently I wondered if I had sustained a concussion or something of the sort. The world suddenly began to fade around me -

(_Don't want to see the Reaper, don't let him get me_)

- but my consciousness was stubborn. It refused to let go of reality, even though I wanted to.

"_Cyra! Cyra, look at me! What's wrong with her, don't - stop! Don't-_"

"_-it hit her. Went through the damn wall and hit her. Her body stopped the blow-_"

"J_esus, look at all of this. How the hell is she still alive?_"

"_The arm's shot. Auger round passed right through all of the nerves. . . Might have to amputate._"

I felt myself crying, even though I knew Trevor was in this transport with me.

_Oh, Mama_, my thought echoed numbly, _look at me. Look at me now. I'm losing everything, Mama. _

The monsters were finally taking it all.


	8. Infection

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Resistance: Fall of Man franchise. For those with intentions of stealing: beware. You will be crushed under the Titan's melee attack, causing instant death. You have been warned.

**Rating**: M for mature. Mature themes will emerge later on in the story. ( Currently the rating has been knocked down to T.)

**Notes: **Ha! Bet you all thought I was _dead_, didn't you? Well, the joke's on you! Actually, just joking. There are a few things I want to explain. Beware: somewhat lengthy author's note ahead. ;-;

I am sorry it took me for_ever_ to update this story. I initially started Dominance as an experiment, of sorts. I wanted to write with both quality _and _quality. Long chapters with lots of sustenance. But the more I look back, the more I see a lot of. . . Quantity. So, I will be revamping previous chapters. There will be some scene changes, some different events happening in the past - don't worry. I'm not going to quit it, but there are some major plot points that need some solid foundations at the beginning of the story. And just, frankly, I kind of don't like how I wrote it. Expect big "revamping signs" out and about for a while!

A second point: there will be some major changes coming up within a chapter. The biggest one being that this story will no longer be told in 1st-person. This was one of the experiments that kept me going for a bit. But the more I thought about it, the more I continued to write in 1st-person, I realized that it was not for me. In honor of Dominance, however, I will be keeping the first few chapters the same.

Lastly, I lost all of the chapter information pertaining to Dominance. Incredibly depressing, I know, but I still remember a vast majority of the plot. Which will now be condensed, because I realize I don't need to write five chapters to explain a single thing. Kind of a side-point to this point, but I'd like to say that I do not have the newest Resistance game. In fact, my damn PS3 went and broke on me. So even if I had a way to buy it, I wouldn't be able to play it!

Don't worry, I'll be working on this, though.

Also, I won't be retconning anything to make it tie into the last Resistance game. I still know _nothing _of it's plot (please don't spoil it!), and if my story doesn't match up with its story in some way, I guess I'll have to go even more AU for the last game to make a sequel.

Oh, yes. There will be a sequel to this fiction. _That_, I planned on the day I made it.

Also, here's another note: this chapter is super long. Kind of as an apology for being away for so long, and also because I was writing and writing and I just couldn't stop! And. . . I've always prided myself in never being able to cry during an incredibly sad movie, or a tear-jerker of a book. But this chapter. . . For some ungodly reason, made my eyes get misty. And I wasn't even trying for that angle. So I'll throw that in as a warning!

But now, I present to you, the maybe-last chapter of 1st-person part of the story! From there, it will be moving onto 3rd person. Without further adieu, here is the next chapter!

* * *

It's two thirty a.m.  
I slowly come awake.  
I know somethings not right.  
I walk slowly to the door, and feel the heat through the walls; smell the burning outside...

And all I can see are these flames around me.  
And all I can think is I'm here alone.  
Please find me and save me...

Even if the world ignites into flames you'll be right here by my side.  
And as it burns away, you smile at me and say that, "Not even death could take me away from you..."

World In Flames - In This Moment

* * *

Awareness came to be slowly, and it took a second for me to register that I was still alive.

My mind came back first, finally rising from the depths of a drug-induced sleep. Feeling came in close second, and hearing followed shortly afterward. A groan left my mouth as I opened my eyes and squinted at the bright light coming from the ceiling. Trying to get my eyes to adjust, I became aware of the distinct sound of soft breathing next to me - it was enough to rouse my curiosity. I turned my head to the side, trying to see the person to my right. _Who's next to me? I don't. . . I don't remember how I got here. . . Where is here, anyway?_

God, I hated drugs. Especially sedatives. When you came out of it, you were groggy and disoriented for hours - sometimes even a day or two - afterward.

Wincing through the bright lights, my eyes finally managed to adjust, and I managed it. I was awake.

My heart skipped a beat when I noticed a very familiar face.

Trevor.

He was laying over the bed, head resting in his arms, pressed up against her side. I smiled to myself, thinking, _of course he would try to cuddle up to my side, the creep._I had been on my back, and I was momentarily amazed I hadn't woken up my friend by shifting around. Regardless, it was hard to crane my neck at such a weird angle to look at Trevor. Placing my palms on the mattress of the thin cot I was on, I pushed myself into a sitting position - and promptly found myself toppling over the side of the bed. Or trying to. I'd managed to catch myself before I fell off.

I tried to right myself, and noticed my left arm wasn't moving. At all. It just laid there, on my side, useless and limp.

My left arm hadn't moved. Why hadn't it moved?

My gaze traveled to the cot I was laying on. Thin, very thin, and green. The floor it was resting on was trampled-down grass. . . Not tile. Using my right arm, I forced myself into a sitting position, and took stock of the room I was in. I discovered it wasn't a room at all. It was a tent, mottled green canvas stretching up to form a small, but navigable space.

"Cyra?" A sleepy voice asked, and I turned back to Trevor.

He had just woken up, expression heavy with sleep. A look of utter relief was on his face - but it quickly morphed to concern and worry upon seeing my face.

"Cyra? What's wrong? Are you hurting anywhere? Is it your arm?"

My mouth moved, trying to form words, ask questions. . . But my throat was locked up tight. And it was then the memories began to surface. Trevor and I, the military, that horrible pain - like somebody had run my shoulder through with a knife. God, my arm had hurt so much - realization dawned on me as that thought struck. I sat there, a small ball of dread forming in my stomach, and I turned to my left arm.

I touched it, fingertips ghosting over the crook of my elbow, the back of my knuckles, my hand. . . But I couldn't feel it. I tried to make a fist, to wiggle my fingers - nothing. It just remained there, lame.

Tears burned in my eyes, and instantly Trevor's hand came down to cover my own.

"Cyra, it's okay. You don't have to cry now, it's going to be okay. . ."

I shook my head, blinking furiously to keep the tears from falling, and turned to Travis again.

"Travis, we have to go. Nana, Mama, everybody - they're still there. We've got to get back to them." I said, my voice sounding strained and hoarse. I started to move, attempting to get off the flimsy cot, but Travis locked his hands over my shoulders and looked at me, a horrible, dreadful look in his eyes.

I knew that look. I'd seen doctors give it to families waiting anxiously outside of the ER. _I'm sorry_, they'd say quietly, gently, _but so-and-so didn't make it. . . Is there somebody you can call? We have a grief counselor available. . . _That look. It was universal. Travis had it now, and at that second, I knew I didn't want to hear anything he'd have to say to me. I wanted to be childish, slap my hands over my ears and sing at the top of my lungs.

"Cyra. . ." Trevor said slowly, ignoring my thoughts, "We can't. There's. . . There's nobody to go back to. They're all d-"

"No!" I snapped, anger and dread coiling in my gut to form something darker, "Don't you dare say that. Don't. You. _Dare_."

I'd just go without him. He may not have hope, but I did. The military had taken us out of South Hill, and we were probably in the woods somewhere, a distance away from the city. If I could lay my hands on a map, I'd be golden. I could find a way back home, back to Mama-

He shook me. Grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him.

"_Cyra_," Trevor said, "They're dead. Everybody. They. Are. All. _Dead_."

"No," I shot back, "It's not true, you know. . . it's. . ."

My heart wrenched as I saw Trevor's face drop, and his strength fled him. Weakly he released my shoulders, and slumped back down into the small chair he'd been sitting in. Tears crawled down his cheeks, and he didn't bother trying to stop them. I sat there, watching him, everything in my world shrinking down to just this one moment. Trevor sat there, his eyes haunted and filled with tears. He was. . . He was honestly _crying_. Not once in our months together had I witnessed him crying. Hell, I'd watched him fall out of a tree when we were younger and break his arm.

Even with the bulge of a broken arm distorting his skin, he hadn't cried.

Trevor pulled in a shaky breath, his hands raking through his hair.

"All of them. . . They're all. . ." He broke off, gritting his teeth and wrenching his eyes shut.

It. . . It was true.

The dark ball inside of me snapped, and I found myself wrapping my good arm around him, holding him as tightly as I could as I started to cry. We both started to sob, eyes easily going red as we clung to each other and we cried.

And for the first time in my life, I realized how deep my selfishness had run. All of those months, I had been clinging to the faint notion that my mother and grandmother were alive. Even though the mall had been reduced to rubble, I had held the idea close to my heart, hoping _maybe_, if I just kept digging through the debris of the mall, inch by inch, i would find Nana still alive and well.

I had given no thought to Trevor's family, or his wants. My friend had a heart made out of gold, and god, in that moment, I knew my friend was worth fifteen of me. He was the best person I knew.

So we sat there, and we cried in the privacy of a military tent.

Trevor was the last person I had to live for in my life, because. . .

Because everybody else. . .

They were dead.

* * *

"We're in a survivor's camp," Trevor explained to me as we walked, "Apparently it was a small detachment of soldiers that had discovered us. Remember them? Well, they were planning on infiltrating the area - recon work, I guess - and they just happened to run into us."

It had been roughly two or three days since I'd been cleared from the field doctors. During those days, Trevor and I had been wrapped in our own desolation, so we hadn't done much more than lay together on the same cot, holding each other close. We drew comfort from the fact that we still had each other. _We'll make it through this_, Trevor had whispered, _I know we will. . . We have to._

Two days ago, we slowly began to regain some of our will back. We weren't happy by any means, but the worst of the emotions had been splayed out. There wasn't a whole lot else we could do for our relatives.

I took in our surroundings slowly, logging it all in my head. Tents had been erected in an orderly fashion, under the cover of the trees. I had been correct in my first assumption, when I had woken up - we _were _in a forest. It fringed the outside of Mt. Rainier, and since the woods were thick, it kept us camouflaged from most of the enemy aircraft.

Or so I'd been told. The _most _part made me uneasy.

We walked along the perimeter of the camp, following a chain-link fence that helped mark the boundaries. A couple days ago, it wouldn't have been possible. We had been kept under close watch by one of the camp's only doctors. He had been worried that Trevor and I were going to commit suicide or something. I'd found out later that he was also the same doctor that had worked on my arm and body.

He'd come into my tent, and had delivered the news as calmly and gently as he could. The Auger round had been a lucky shot that had somehow managed to get past the energy shield. The soldier who'd been escorting me had taken me down to the ground to protect me from oncoming fire, but the Auger shot had passed through my shoulder - I'd stopped the shot. I had actually kept the soldier from getting killed, for if the bolt had passed through my shoulder, it would have gone through his throat.

In payment, it had permanently fucked up my left arm. They had given me a sling to wear, so I didn't hurt my arm and not know about. It's easy to impale something you can't feel on a dirty object, have it get infected, and then give you all kinds of diseases.

"_You could amputate_," The doctor had informed me, "_But we lack the necessary facilities for a delicate amputation here. . . Or you could wait and see if your nerves will attempt to repair. There's no guarantee - you won't ever get back full use of your arm - but it's worth a shot._"

I hadn't decided what I wanted to do yet. I could either be Cyra, the one-armed wonder, or I could hope and pray and do physical therapy on myself, and hope the nerves started working again. Without proper medical equipment, it was impossible for the doctors to actually tell me the condition of my arm. But past experience between Auger rounds and soldiers had proven that the nerves never really functioned again.

But there _had_been cases. . .

"Cyra?" Trevor asked, and I realized I had been slowing down, so lost in my thoughts I'd been.

"I'm okay," I told him, "Just thinking, that's all. You were saying?" I prompted, hoping Trevor's talking would help drown out the thoughts swirling in my brain.

"Yeah. I was telling you that we'll be here for a while. Until the military knows of a safer place for the camp. There's about a thousand people here, give or take - they don't put too many in one camp. Although I heard there's another camp about ten miles away from us."

I nodded my head absently, not really processing the information. We picked our way over the uneven forest floor, and we surveyed the layout of the survivor's camp. I tried to let my mind slip into its old groove. Assess the situation. Analyze what's around you. Take action as needed.

Right now I had to worry about Trevor and I. We just had to survive - it's all we needed to concern ourselves with. If the soldiers protecting the camp were able to hold us through the war, we'd be alright.

After the war. . . I didn't know.

We were both underage. Once the government got into order, they'd probably try to ship us off to some orphanage or something equally ridiculous.

Trevor guided me into the mess hall, were people - other survivors and a soldier here and there - milled about aimlessly. Most of them wore gaunt faces, with hollowed and terrified eyes, a vast majority of them looking to start screaming and running at any second. I did my best to ignore them, not wanting to look into the eyes of people who'd also faced sorrow like we had. It just made the situation far too. . . Depressing. Trevor secured a packet of rations for the both of us, and away we left again, looking for a suitable place to eat.

We found it, then, after another minute or two of searching. It was a tree, with roots sticking up out of the ground, and a scarred trunk. We meandered over to it, and took a seat in the gaps of the dirt the roots provided. Trevor sat on another perch the roots made, and we both cracked open our rations packs and started trying to eat. We didn't like being around other survivors - especially families. We just wanted to be by ourselves, away from the people who were likely to turn into rabid wolves and start snapping at everybody when pressed too hard. We had been relying on just each other for the past few months, and it had worked just fine.

_Don't fix what isn't broken._

"I learned what they are." Travis piped up.

I dropped the cracker I had been unsuccessfully trying to nibble on for the past few minutes.

"The monsters, you mean?" I asked, picking up the cracker and dipping it in something that resembled jelly. It snapped in half, so I dropped the pieces and mixed them up. Huh. I'd just made a smiley face.

"Yeah," He continued, "Turns out, we weren't _too _far off track."

He told me of the monsters, then. Of their weaponry, of their armor, and their machines. He told me their true name - Chimera. It fit them. Especially when I found out what, exactly, the Chimera were made out of.

And he was right. Despite our paranoid whispers in the dark, about us being turned into secret government experiments that led to our inevitable transformation to Chimera. . . We actually weren't too far off the beaten path.

* * *

For the next week, the tree became our unofficial hangout. After we were checked out by the doctors - who always found no change in my arm - we'd cut ourselves loose and wander over to the scarred trunk and knotted roots. It offered us solace, and actually helped us recall memories of a time where there wasn't a war or Chimera. When we were young, and used to run around the forest and play all kinds of games. . .

And sometimes, on a good day, we would be able to smile and laugh as we remembered the good times.

The sounds of footsteps drew closer, and then eased away. The tree was situated somewhat close to the perimeter, and every now and then we would hear a passing patrol, but their noise faded quickly, and we'd always be left to our silence again. Sometimes we'd talk about what we'd do when we got out of the survivor's camp - but that conversation would always lapse into silence. Especially when the concept of "who's home should we go to?" was brought up.

My family was nonexistent. Mama had been married before I was born, but she'd gotten divorced. I had no aunts or uncles - just Nana. Mama had always told me that it was alright our family wasn't too big. It just meant we loved each other all the more. So now they were gone, and I was left with Trevor.

Trevor, on the other hand, had a sprawling family. A mother, a father, aunts, uncles, cousins - it went on. I'd attended one of his family reunions once. . . At _least _seventy people had shown up, and everybody had appeared to be pretty genial to one another.

The odds were good for Trevor. Even if his immediate family were gone - like mine was - he had pretty good chances of at least some of his extended family surviving.

But we preferred not to dwell on that. Most of the time we just sat there, thinking out loud, or exchanging opinions with one commented on recent events in the war against the Chimera, or the noticeably startling drop in soldiers that were suddenly disappearing from the camp. Whenever Trevor or I asked a passing soldier - or a doctor - we got a tight-lipped expression, and a simple:

"They are needed elsewhere."

Nothing else would be said on the matter, although Trevor and I suspected we knew what it meant: try as hard as they might, the Americans were slowly beginning to succumb to the Chimeran threat.

We might have been a superpower, with an unstoppable navy, army, and aerial force, but matched up to aliens with otherworldly technology, and we were falling on our knees. I absently began to play with the pine on the grass, chewing the inside of my cheek as I did so.

Trevor and I didn't know what we'd do with ourselves once this war was over. Where would we go? Who would stay with us? We were barely able to work - and forget about me being in school, no less. I was terrified of crowds, of being near groups larger than five or six people. It made Trevor itchy, too, and always we would withdraw to the fringes of the camp, back to the tree.

Breathing in deeply, I let loose a shaking sigh, a wry smile suddenly tugging up the corners of my mouth.

"I'm glad. . . That you're still here," I finally said, catching Trevor's attention, "I don't. . . Nobody else left, you know?" I said, my throat getting tight.

Trevor grimaced, as though my words physically pained him.

"It's okay," He murmured weakly in return, "We'll get out of this alright. I'm glad you're here, too."

That seemed to be our magic mantra. A promise we voiced, every time, when we said the words aloud. _We'll be alright. We'll get out of this okay._

And because it was Trevor. . . I believed it.

We lapsed into silence again, and I rested my head back against the tree as I let my thoughts leave me. After a week, I was tired of thinking. It would be so, so nice to just let go. . .

That was when we heard it.

_Silence. _

All around us. The camp had fallen deathly silent, as had the surrounding forest. Sitting up, I opened my mouth to speak, to ask if he was hearing what I was hearing, but Trevor shook his head sharply. Closing my mouth, we both sat there for precious moments as we tried to figure out what had caused everything to become so, so quiet. I got to my feet, unable to contain the jitters running through me. Trevor followed suit, looking worried.

I opened my mouth again, about to ask him a question, but the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Gunshots started to chatter, startling close to the camp. Trevor was at my side in an instant, hand at my elbow. Panic flared through me, but only for a moment, and we exchanged looks. The Chimera were at the camp; we didn't need to be told this piece of information by any soldier or survivor.

Still, I couldn't help the instinctive question that popped out of my mouth.

"What's going on?" I asked breathlessly, a nervous knot building in my throat.

"They found us." Trevor guessed tersely, and we stood there as precious seconds ticked by.

"What are we going to do? We don't even know where they're attacking from." As the words left my mouth, more and more assault rifles came to life, followed by the close _phump phump _of the Chimeran weaponry.

They were drawing closer.

Trevor yanked my arm, guiding me towards the camp, and I dug my feet in and shook my head vehemently.

"No! No! There's a _thousand _people in there, Trevor. I'll bet you at _least _nine hundred of them are panicking and will trample over us if we wander anywhere close to them."

He stopped, dead in his tracks. He grit his teeth, and I knew what he was thinking. The camp was the only places with supplies, and we needed them before we made a break for it. But I had been correct - already I could hear panicked screams coming from the camp, as people ran back and forth, terrified.

"What the fuck _else _are we supposed to do?" He snapped. I tugged back on his arm.

"Let's find a weak spot in the fence. I can't climb over. . ."

"Let's go." He said, grabbing my hand.

We started running along the edge of the fence, searching for any weak spots, anywhere where there was a gap or a hole in the dirt underneath the metal. We skirted the outside of the camp, knowing it would be suicide to even wander into it. A mob of terrified people was nothing we could handle on our own. But the camp was new, and had been erected with a perimeter in mind.

There wasn't any gap in the chain-link fencing, but we could make our own hole. Trevor jerked to a halt, dropping to his knees and digging at the soil with his fingers. I helped where I could, using my good hand to scoop what dirt I could out of the way - and maybe that's why I saw it. A bright yellow bolt, headed right at Trevor's head. Shrieking his name, I tugged on the back of his shirt, pulling him on top of me.

The bolt passed in the space where his head used to be.

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck!_" Trevor snarled, grabbing at my elbow and yanking me up to my feet.

More Auger rounds, and my skin crawled at the thought of any of the energy bolts hitting me. We ran back the way we'd come, hoping against hope that the Chimera hadn't flanked the damn camp. Trevor jerked us in the direction of the camp, and I swallowed back my knee-jerk reaction to shout, "_no!_"

What we came to was a scene of chaos. Wounded soldiers were being ferreted to the medical tents, and people were running to and fro, trying to find loved ones and panicking. It was like the first day, back at the mall, all those days ago. An instinctive shudder passed through my spine, but it quickly dissipated as Trevor yanked the two of us close to one of the jeeps the army had parked.

We crouched there, beside the vehicle, having no idea where to go or what was safe. We needed a plan - and we needed one fast.

"What the hell are we going to do?" I shouted, trying to be heard over the screams and chatter of gunfire.

"I don't know! I don't _know!_" Trevor shouted back desperately.

Orange shots started strafing into the camp, mercilessly plowing into the survivors who wandered into the crossfire. I groaned as memories of the mall rose up, and I watched helplessly as the survivors fell down in sprays of blood, clearly dead. I couldn't do anything. I needed both arms to be a nurse, and I couldn't even hold a rifle with one arm. God, all we could do was just _sit _there-

Explosions rocked the ground, throwing up clods of dirt and hazes of black smoke. Grenades, mortars - I had no idea what they were, but it was loud enough to make me cry out in surprise, strong enough to send a vibration to the dirt under me. We sat there, dazed and disoriented.

"We can't stay here!" Trevor yelled, "We've got to get out of the camp!"

"How?"

He pulled me up to my feet, tugging me back into the fray. I swallowed reflexively as another orange shot streaked past my foot, nearly hitting it. I tripped over something soft, losing my grip on Trevor's hand and falling in the dirt. Looking at my foot, I found a burned hand in the dirt. _A body_, my brain supplied, _you just tripped over a body._

"Get up get up _get up!_" Trevor was yelling, hoisting me back to my feet by the back of my shirt. I staggered back into pace behind him, clutching his hand so hard in my own, I was afraid I was going to break the bones there.

That was when another orange bullet hit Trevor in the leg. He collapsed with a cry of agony, and instantly I was on my knees beside him. He was clutching at his knee, curled up into a semi-fetal position and his teeth were grit so hard, I swore I could hear them over the gunfire.

"It's okay!" I said, "I'll go find a medkit - don't move, Trevor! I'll be right back!"

I was on my feet before he could stop me. I heard him call out my name, but I ran back to the medical tents, jumping over the fallen bodies of the dead, adrenaline giving me speed, desperation giving me purpose. Trevor would bleed out. He would get infection - fuck. I'd been hit by their bombs, by an Auger shot, and my body was fucked up. Trevor didn't need that - didn't deserve it.

I skidded to a halt, and found a medkit just laying there. Right there, in front of the medical tent, like it was meant for me. I was in front of it in two seconds flat, had it open in another three. Yes. It was full, it was ready to go and it had everything I needed. Buckling it back up, I held it close to my chest as I made a beeline for Trevor.

An orange bolt scraped the side of my calf painfully, but I kept running, ignoring the drip of blood down my leg. _Just a scratch. Just get to Trevor, you've lived through worse._

I made it back to Trevor in record time, falling to my knees beside him ungracefully, and snapped open the medical kit. Scissors. I had to cut away his pants. I could access the wound that way. Snatching them up, I sliced through the fabric of his pant leg with ease. The wound was clean - he was lucky. A through - and through. It hadn't hit bone - if it had, the bolt and the bullet would still be lodged inside of his leg.

"Don't worry, Trevor. It's an easy fix, I swear."

I'd never patched bullet wounds by myself before. But I'd seen it enough times, I knew the basics - I realized, then, as I was dousing Trevor's leg with alcohol. . . That my friend wasn't moving.

"Trevor? Trevor!" I yelled, shaking him to get his attention. He flopped about uselessly in my grip, entire body relaxed and unmoving.

_Shock. Goddamnit it, he went into shock._

I swore, and yanked him so he was laying on his back. His eyes were closed, and his head lolled to the side. My fingers went to his neck, to check for a pulse. . . To find there wasn't one. I sat there, shock pouring through me as I stared at Trevor. He was. . . Trevor was. . . No. No, no, no no nonononono_ NO_.

"Trevor? Goddamn it, Trevor, wake up! Wake up!" It was hard, but I began CPR, throwing my entire body onto his chest to make up for lack of my other arm. I heard the battle around me fading in noise, heard the Chimeran weaponry grow more distant as they retreated. But I never stopped, did compressions. Stopped, breathed in air. More compressions. More, more. . .

And then. . .

It was silent.

It stopped me. My hand laid on his chest, and I stared at my friend's face, feeling my heart racing in my chest, the blood thundering through my ears. I sat back on my feet, my hand numbly falling to my side.

_This is payback for being a bitch. For being an evil person._I said, eerily calm.

I smiled at the thought. Yeah, god would be enough of a bastard to do that to me. Take the last person on the planet that cared about me, murder him while I was getting supplies to save his life-

Trevor was dead. The fact didn't slap me in the face. No, it was like my brain was telling me the sky was blue. My friend was dead in the dirt before me, his heart stopped, his brain turned off. _Probably an Auger shot. They go through walls, you know._

Yeah. . . I could see discoloration on his skin appearing, blackened patches from where it had entered his skull. Weird. That didn't happen to my arm - maybe it was because it had passed through his skull, breaking it, internal bleeding. I didn't know. I stared at Trevor-_no,_ I thought, _Trevor's dead. That's his body. A body. _

Still. It had been Trevor's body. That easy smile stayed on my face, and I leaned over and dragged him into my lap, where I held him with my arm, touching his forehead with my own and just. . . Holding him there.

Around me, the camp stirred to life, as what was left of the soldiers and survivors crawled out of the woodwork. The bodies of the dead lay strewn on the ground, a vast majority of them being the survivors. I was oblivious to it, to all of it. I held Trevor's limp body in my own, and I started to hum.

The camp began to take stock of who was dead and who was alive, attempting to reestablish some semblance of order. A doctor popped out of the medical tent, his gloves coated in the blood of soldiers and fallen warriors. He breathed heavily, scanning the ground and trying to suppress the lance of pain that stabbed through his heart. His gaze traveled to a girl, hunched over a body. He recognized her as the girl he'd been treating, the one with the dead arm.

_Her friend died._He realized, and even though he had no time to worry over her, he did. They'd both been hanging in by a single thread. With no family to go back to, both were orphans of the Chimera war. He frowned, realizing that he'd been right. She'd - they'd - both been a great suicide risk when they had entered the camp. And now. . . Now it was all but certain she would wither away and die.

A high-pitched whistling interrupted his thoughts, and he turned his gaze skyward, fearing another mortal shell - but no.

A strangled scream, a warning, tried to get past his throat. But the sleek metal hit the dirt right in front of him, and he was knocked backwards by the force of the impact. As if fate herself were present that day, the doctor hit his head against a medical supply crate, and he was rendered unconscious. Maybe it was for the best. For the sleek metal of the triangular object began to part, revealing gauzy bags filled with insects.

The bags ripped, and the horde of insects swarmed through the camp, ignoring the dead and making a beeline for the living.

I didn't know any of this.

I simply sat there, even as people ran by me, screaming for mercy, for god not to do this, please, please don't do this.

I hummed. I held Trevor and rocked him back and forth, gently, murmuring words against his head.

"It'll be okay, Trevor. You'll see. We'll make it out of this alright."

The sounds of a horde of many-legged things drew closer, but I simply remained where I was, quite content.

"I'm glad you're here, Trevor. For being here with me."

I smiled, even when legs crawled over my body, hot bugs touching my skin. I hummed, even as the sounds of their wings in flight droned in the air around me. I didn't fight it. Not even when they found their way into my mouth.

Even as they exploded inside of me, releasing searing hot fluids into my intestines, I hummed, my eyes slowly closing, clutching Trevor's body close to mine. And when the darkness came, I smiled. _I told you, Trevor. . . Everything will be alright. It's going to be okay._


	9. Fracture

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own the Resistance: Fall of Man franchise. For those with intentions of stealing: beware. You will be crushed under the Titan's melee attack, causing instant death. You have been warned.

**Rating**: M for mature. Mature themes will emerge later on in the story. ( Currently the rating has been knocked down to T.)

**Notes: **What. . . What is this?

I'm _alive_?! What is this world coming to?!

I'm not even going to try to apologize for how late this is. I'm really not. But please know that I AM incredibly sorry. So I give you this chapter as a piece of penance. ;=;

Second off, I managed to get my hands on a new PS3, and I played through all of Resistance 3. Words cannot express my rage. Seriously. That game left such a bad taste in my mouth. The second game was nothing short of incredible, and then they mucked it all up again. There wasn't even any online co-op with hardcore difficulty. R3 was a major contribution in why I was so. . . Ick about Resistance for a while.

Rest assured, Cyra is very much alive. Well, kind of.

On that note, this chapter (and all others following it) are going to be crafted in 3rd person. I know it's kind of a radical shift, but I honestly don't think I can do 1st person anymore. And I really want to finish this bad boy up, because it's been what, 3, almost 4 years old now?

What else? Hm. Oh.

Prologue has been revamped, and I paused. The 1st Chapter was going to be revamped too, but I need to include a new scene in it, or else the future sequel just won't make any sense at all. Yes, you read that right. Though the sequel will kind of be more like an epilogue on this story, just longer and a little more in-depth. It'll end Cyra's story.

**Please pay attention to this** **question**: As I was rewriting, I noticed that one of my chapters was straight-up filler. This is, essentially, Trevor and Cyra's day at the lake.

Do you guys want it axed or do you want it to stay?

Your opinions, my friends, will greatly influence my decision. If you want it to stay, it will be revamped (like the prologue). I'll just give it a new dimension. If not, I'll axe it.

Anyway, I think that's it for the author's note. I gave this story a brand-new icon because the old one was getting a little old.

Let's break out the new chapter, shall I?

* * *

I'm trying not to drown  
Beneath the sound  
But it's taking over  
I've tried to shut it down  
But it grows ever loud

Two voices in my head  
And I want one of them dead  
So I can focus on  
Remembering the words you said

Kill The Sound - Celldweller

* * *

"You never let me do _anything!_" She screeched, glaring at the person standing before her. She reached down and picked up a lose piece of scrap metal and hurled it at the wall for good measure. Just to make sure she got her point across.

The Kin present snarled at her for her insubordination and obvious flippancy, but she growled right back. Wisely, they stopped and stepped back.

She hated it.

She _loathed. It. _

She wasn't allowed to look like her Kin. Like _her_. It just wasn't _fair_. She wanted beautiful, white wings and six, glowing, all-knowing eyes. She wanted to rip away the vestiges of her human shell and embrace the songs and words floating in the air around her. Those peaceful voices whispering in her ears were a grim reminder that she would never ascend to the ranks of her Kin.

_Because it's not allowed_, she thought sourly.

Whenever they tested her, they put her inside of tubes filled with liquids and wires, and made her sleep. And, every single time, she met _her_. That weak, pathetic, stupid human.

Angel told her that her human reflection was a part of herself - the _last _human part. She said it with a frown on her lips, as though Angel were displeased with her actions.

When she had been young, first embracing the virus running through her veins, she'd ripped through her mind. She'd laughed as she'd sliced open throats and broken bones and slaughtered the fragments of her fragile humanity.

But the last part, that girl, with her innocent fear and her tangled brown hair - it got to her. Every single time.

And she fucking _loathed _her.

"Why can't I be like you?" She yelled, trying to distract herself from the memory of that girl, "Why can't I be Kin, too?!" She roughly kicked a metal conduit.

They told her that she was special, and, unlike the other humans, she had a purpose. In time, Angel had told her, she would be able to see that.

But, due to that special quality, Angel had also told her that she would always be forced to remain in her weak human shell.

Whispers rose in her mind, singing a quiet lullaby in an alien tongue. They were comforting. In a moment, Angel descended, and she knew it was because she wanted to put to rest her rage and irritation. Arms wrapped around her and held her close, pressing her against a soft chest. She took on the form of some human woman (it always made the human girl cry and sob and say, _Mama I missed you so much why'd you have to leave me?_), in order to "ease the stress on her mind." She stood there sullenly, refusing to let Angel soothe away her black mood.

If she could manage to kill the last part of her human self, she'd be able to join them. So why wouldn't they let her?

"Now, is that any way to conduct yourself?" Angel said calmly, fingers smoothing through her hair. It was a futile effort. It was matted and dried and tangled.

Though she wanted to snap back bitterly, her body relaxed into the contact, seeking more of it, craving it. She loved Angel, with all of her heart. But still, her lips pulled into a frown.

"I want to be like you. Is that so bad?" She asked, turning her head and looking into a pair of her eyes. Angel had six eyes, just like the rest of her Kin. But unlike the other Angels, or even other Kin, Angel's eyes always got softer, and glowed with affection whenever she looked at her.

"You're special. You know this. You can't be like me. . . It isn't to be."

Frustration welled in her, and tears welled in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Angel's thin waist and squeezed. Her wings spread around them, feathers floating down to the ground and shining a bright, beautiful white. Nuzzling close and closing her eyes, she prayed and hoped and wished that the last human part of her would die.

She 'd loved it. She wanted it. Because then, she could be just like Angel. She could truly be one of her Kin.

"It's not _fair_," She whined, "She's weak. Pathetic - and you said so yourself! 'All humans are frail, stupid things.' If I changed, I could be a part of all of you, too. We'd never be separated."

Angel ran a hand down her back, smoothing it over her spine. It felt deliciously warm over her cold skin, and made her shiver when she passed over surgically implanted, mechanical ports. To better hook her into machines to monitor her.

"I know, my love," Angel said, softly, "I know. Come, it is time for you to rest. You must be very tired."

She _was_, but she wasn't about to let her time with Angel be cut short. Especially since Angel was - quite rapidly - becoming the last of her kind. The True Kin had decreed that all of Angel's sisters be exterminated.

The True Kin had been killing all of the Angels. Because they were inferior, and no longer needed in the master plan. She had a sneaking suspicion that the only reason Angel had been with ehr so long was because she'd demanded it. And for now, the Kin tried to keep her happy. Because she was special.

Angel took her hand and guided he down the sprawling hallways and rooms that dotted the complex they resided in. Kin gave them a respectful distance as they passed, averting their eyes and quickly scrambling to give them room. Angel hardly seemed to notice their reverence.

Finally, they came upon a room that had been reserved for her. Something the Kin had constructed to help cater to her frail human shell.

It was piled high with blankets and kept hot, all the time, so she wouldn't catch any illnesses. Angel led her into her room, and she felt a strong lethargy pulling at her. Being with Angel was her primary mission in life, but connecting with her was draining. She could only keep their telekinetic link running for so long - another reason why she hated her human body.

Angel maneuvered her down gently, and pulled the blankets over her body.

"Sleep, my love, and rest. When the time comes, you and I will be together again."

She smiled as her eyes closed. The idea of her being by Angel's side helped wipe out some of the anger she still carried.

It was also enough to help her forget the hysterical sobbing coming from the voice of the human girl in the back of her mind.

* * *

Today they were playing a game.

They played games all the time.

Angel told her they served two purposes: the first - it allowed the Kin to test her telekinetic link to Angel.

Angel would hide in the complex, and she'd have to find her by feeling for her with her mind.

The second - she needed something to ease the stress their connection caused in her head.

"Angel!" She called, scanning the hallways.

Kin rushed everywhere around her, but she paid them no mind as they scuttled about. One of them ran by her so quickly he struck her left arm, sending a lance of pain through her. She gasped and shrank back against the wall, biting her lip to keep herself from cursing loudly. She rocked back and forth on her heels as she stood there, eyes closed tightly. _Stupid Kin, that hurt!_

Those that functioned as doctors for the Kin had managed to fix her arm. . . To an extent. She still couldn't feel her middle, ring, or pinky fingers, and there were days where her entire arm would go completely numb. And whenever she touched the site where a Kin's bullet had passed through, it ached and stung for hours on end. . . But her arm was functional, and she was happy about it.

Angel was constantly reprimanding her not to touch it or hit it against anything, in case she hurt herself. She'd done that more than once during her time with the Kin.

Finally managing to reign her pain back, she opened her eyes and found the hallways were now decidedly empty.

"Angel?" She called out, beginning to feel concern rising inside of her.

At that moment, she heard a muted explosion. A brief, glaringly bright flash of light pressed itself up against the windows, nearly blinding her. She yelped and stumbled backward, almost falling onto the floor.

"Angel!" She cried, concern morphing to fear.

The light faded, and she stood there, looking at her reflection in the heavy, reinforced glass surrounding the complex. She looked wide-eyed and scared, golden eyes catching the light and glowing. Just as quickly, however, her imaged changed, morphing into a green-eyed, terrified human girl.

A beat later, and that fear turned into mirth. She started laughing, tears streaming down her face, arms wrapped around her stomach. Anger exploded inside of her, and her hands balled into fists at her side. The human girl had never acted like this before. Never. Not in all of their encounters. She was always too scared, too stupid to say anything back to her.

And now she was _laughing_.

"What's so funny?" She barked, glaring at her.

This only made the girl laugh harder, fingers digging into her skin, her face turning red.

"_What's so funny?"_ She screamed, punching her.

Or, she would have. The glass stopped her cold.

The girl paused, eyes crinkling as she grinned at her, flashing white teeth.

"_They're here. They're finally here_," She said, her voice just a second behind her mouth movements, "_And this time, I'm going to die. This nightmare will finally end. I'll leave this fever dream behind. Isn't it hilarious? You've been trying to kill me, and now you'll be murdered by humans_-"

"Shut up!" She snapped, cocking her fist back again, "Shut up shut up _shut up!_"

The glass was cracking underneath her barrage, strengthened muscles creaking under the strain. When a large fracture ruptured the glass's surface, the girl started laughing again, as though it were the funniest thing in the entire damn world.

A prickling sensation swept through her mind, and she stiffened - but then Angel was there, in her mind. She relaxed instantly, and the girl's visage faded from the cracked glass.

"Angel!" She cried out, feeling her mind twisting and churning in on itself, reflecting her Kin's emotions.

"_Go the hangar. Quickly!_" Angel ordered in her mind, "_The insects are coming. A Guardian will be there to protect you_."

"Angel, what's happening? Why are you afraid? You're coming too, right?" She asked, hesitating, wringing her hands and biting her lip as she looked up at the ceiling.

"_I told you to go!_"

"But Angel-"

"_There's no time! _GO!"

Today they were playing a game.

They played games all the time.

Angel told her they served two purposes: the first - it allowed the Kin to test her telekinetic link to Angel.

Angel would hide in the complex, and she'd have to find her by feeling for her with her mind.

The second - she needed something to ease the stress their connection caused in her head.

"Angel!" She called, scanning the hallways.

Kin rushed everywhere around her, but she paid them no mind as they scuttled about. One of them ran by her so quickly he struck her left arm, sending a lance of pain through her. She gasped and shrank back against the wall, biting her lip to keep herself from cursing loudly. She rocked back and forth on her heels as she stood there, eyes closed tightly. _Stupid Kin, that hurt!_

Those that functioned as doctors for the Kin had managed to fix her arm. . . To an extent. She still couldn't feel her middle, ring, or pinky fingers, and there were days where her entire arm would go completely numb. And whenever she touched the site where a Kin's bullet had passed through, it ached and stung for hours on end. . . But her arm was functional, and she was happy about it.

Angel was constantly reprimanding her not to touch it or hit it against anything, in case she hurt herself. She'd done that more than once during her time with the Kin.

Finally managing to reign her pain back, she opened her eyes and found the hallways were now decidedly empty.

"Angel?" She called out, beginning to feel concern rising inside of her.

At that moment, she heard a muted explosion. A brief, glaringly bright flash of light pressed itself up against the windows, nearly blinding her. She yelped and stumbled backward, almost falling onto the floor.

"Angel!" She cried, concern morphing to fear.

The light faded, and she stood there, looking at her reflection in the heavy, reinforced glass surrounding the complex. She looked wide-eyed and scared, golden eyes catching the light and glowing. Just as quickly, however, her imaged changed, morphing into a green-eyed, terrified human girl.

A beat later, and that fear turned into mirth. She started laughing, tears streaming down her face, arms wrapped around her stomach. Anger exploded inside of her, and her hands balled into fists at her side. The human girl had never acted like this before. Never. Not in all of their encounters. She was always too scared, too stupid to say anything back to her.

And now she was _laughing_.

"What's so funny?" She barked, glaring at her.

This only made the girl laugh harder, fingers digging into her skin, her face turning red.

"_What's so funny?"_ She screamed, punching her.

Or, she would have. The glass stopped her cold.

The girl paused, eyes crinkling as she grinned at her, flashing white teeth.

"_They're here. They're finally here_," She said, her voice just a second behind her mouth movements, "_And this time, I'm going to die. This nightmare will finally end. I'll leave this fever dream behind. Isn't it hilarious? You've been trying to kill me, and now you'll be murdered by humans_-"

"Shut up!" She snapped, cocking her fist back again, "Shut up shut up _shut up!_"

The glass was cracking underneath her barrage, strengthened muscles creaking under the strain. When a large fracture ruptured the glass's surface, the girl started laughing again, as though it were the funniest thing in the entire damn world.

A prickling sensation swept through her mind, and she stiffened - but then Angel was there, in her mind. She relaxed instantly, and the girl's visage faded from the cracked glass.

"Angel!" She cried out, feeling her mind twisting and churning in on itself, reflecting her Kin's emotions.

"_Go the hangar. Quickly!_" Angel ordered in her mind, "_The insects are coming. A Guardian will be there to protect you_."

"Angel, what's happening? Why are you afraid? You're coming too, right?" She asked, hesitating, wringing her hands and biting her lip as she looked up at the ceiling.

"_I told you to go!_"

"But Angel-"

"_There's no time! _GO!"

She bit her lip so strongly, she tasted the coppery, metallic bite of blood in her mouth. Concern rose inside of her, matching her fear. Every fiber in her body was telling her to rush over, to join Angel by her side and protect her. She couldn't abandon her while they were under attack from the human scum. She heard a delicate sigh in her mind, and the ghostly apparitions of hands and fingers came to life, touching her face, cupping her cheeks. She felt soft lips press tenderly against her forehead.

"_I will join you as soon as I am able. Go to the Guardian, he is waiting._"

"Do you promise?" She asked, holding onto the empty air. How badly she wished she could hold Angel in that moment.

"_Yes. Now go. Quickly!_"

She swallowed back her fear and concern and nodded her head. Taking off at a run, she fled towards the hangar bay, where the Guardians were present. The Kin used them to help move heavy cargo, as they were strong. They were fierce warriors to face in battle, but were difficult to fabricate. Guardians were slow to be born, but their need on the battlefield had never been so great.

The explosions and sounds of gunfire grew louder, even as she ran away from it, but she made it to the hangar bay in record time. Many of the vehicles and airships had departed, meeting the human insects in the air. She heard the thunderous footsteps of one of the titan-like Guardians, and she craned her neck back as he emerged from the back of the hangar, golden eyes staring back at her. She was breathing harshly, and even amidst the chaos raging outside, she could hear the raspy quality of her breaths.

The Guardian let loose a low groan (like most Kin, he wasn't capable of speaking), and knelt before her, easing his bulk onto his knees.

"I'm scared," She said, "I'm so scared."

She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, and in the corner of her mind, that girl was still laughing.

She didn't want Angel to die. Or any of her Kin - even the ones who thought she was a human.

She wanted them all to live. She desperately wished that Angel wasn't among those who were dead or dying.

The Guardian reached towards her, a huge, meaty hand stretching forward. Almost tenderly, he reached forward, just barely brushing a finger over her cheek. She was crying. She had been crying and she hadn't even noticed it. She grabbed his finger and gave him a pained smile as he leaned against his hand, letting the tears fall.

The Guardians had always been kind to her. Sometimes they even let her ride on their shoulders. They understood that she was a treasure to be protected, and did so, zealously. She rested her forehead against the leathery, lizard-like skin, and she cried. She was afraid. There had been times that she'd claimed she'd go through any human installation and kill them all, but only if it made Angel happy.

But now. . . Now that the base was being attacked - she wasn't so brave anymore. All of that bravado had fled her.

And all because the mere thought of Angel dying was sending her into a panic.

The Guardian let loose another low, understanding moan, but it tapered off as he stilled, and in lightning-fast move that hardly seemed possible for his size, cupped his entire hand around her and crushed her to his chest. Her breath left her, ans she gasped, trying to suck in air, to wriggle out from his hold, but deafening explosions ripped through the air a moment later. She heard the Guardian give out a pained snarl, and his body jerked as the explosives landed on his back.

She opened her mouth, wanting to call out to him, but she could only cough. The Guardian deposited her on the ground, behind a stack of heavy crates. He looked at her, never breaking eye contact as he picked up his gun and fluidly got to his feet.

_Stay there_, he said.

She was shocked - she'd never been able to form a telepathic bond between anyone but Angel. Before she could agree, the Guardian turned, and let loose a fierce war cry that made the entire room shake. Human voices filtered into her hearing, and the sound of human rifles firing echoed in the empty space. She wrenched her eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the sounds of the Guardian's powerful gun going off, again and again. The humans were screaming and firing, and unknowing of what else to do, she reached out, trying to reach out to Angel.

_Help me, Angel, please please _please_, I don't want the Guardian to die_-

As though her mental words had cued it, she heard the sparking and fizzling of the Guardian's heat stacks reaching critical mass. Unable to help herself, she hefted herself to peek over the top of the crates, and found the Guardian writhing, hand struggling to grab onto one of the heat stacks.

No.

_No!_

"Don't die!" She called out, fear rushing through her, "Don't leave me alone!"

One of the humans in the room turned to her, and she saw his eyes widening in shock as he caught sight of her. He lifted up his gun, training it to bear on her, and she stood there, staring into the eyes of the pathetic human.

And he was going to kill her.

The girl in the back of her head only opened her eyes wide and closed her eyes, a blissful smile on her face.

She saw the human pulling the trigger on the gun, but a moment later, he disappeared, crushed under the heat stack of the Guardian. Blood leaked out from underneath the hot metallic structure, and she looked up - and found the Guardian there. His back was a bloody mess, and his gun lay in a smoking pile by his feet. _He used his gun to shoot off the heat stacks before they blew up. . . _It was a momentary relief, however, and quickly overshadowed by the bitter understanding that followed.

_He's going to die. He'll overheat._

The Guardian roared, making her ears ache as he whirled, turning on the humans, intent on taking out as many of them as he could. He used his fists and his feet, grabbing one human and ripping him in half with his bare hands. She thought he was doing well - the humans began to dwindle down in numbers. She stepped out from behind the crate, watching as he fought bodily through the insects, blood running down his back, and a sheen of sweat developing on his leathery skin.

It couldn't have been longer than a minute or two, maybe. But his exertion finally made his body temperature rise to fatal temperatures, and he tried to swing, to punch a human, but he stumbled, and collapsed onto the floor, breathing hard and raspy.

She took a step forward, and then another, and despite the danger around her, she sprinted over to the Guardian and dropped to her knees beside his head. The light behind those golden eyes was fading rapidly, and she stared at the titan of war before her sadly, unashamed of the tears that kept crawling down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," She said, her voice cracking, "Thank you. Thank you."

She laid gentle hands on his face, touching him gently, and those golden eyes looked at her, just for a moment, before the light faded, and he died. His body slumped against the floor, muscles relaxing. She bent over to kiss his cheek, wishing for all the world that she could thank him properly for his efforts. He deserved it. For everything he'd done. He'd given his life for her.

It was a sacrifice she'd carry with her to her dying day.

Footsteps echoed around her, and she jerked up, finding humans closing in around her, guns lifting again.

Though the Guardian was dead, she flinched into him, biting her lip and feeling the sting as she worried through the delicate skin.

"_Get away from her!_" A voice screeched, and she snapped her head up in shock to find Angel descending, a dark, ferocious scowl on her face as she swung a sword, wings splayed behind her.

A thrill ran through her as she watched her Kin bring the sword down on the flinching humans. Some of them fell to their knees as she attacked, slashing and hacking through the humans.

And just like that, within moments, they were dead.

She struggled to get to her feet, as her legs were shaking, and Angel turned to face her, stained with the blood of her enemies.

"Angel," She croaked, spreading her arms wide as she stepped forward. If she was with Angel, the world would be right again, "Angel!"

That same, soft, lilting smile came to life on her face, and her Angel turned and opened her arms, inviting her to step inside of them.

"_I'm so glad_," Angel said as she crossed the distance separating them, "_That you are sa-_"

Angel jerked, and her eyes widened.

Her blood ran like ice through her veins as she watched the wings get torn open, and Angel began to bleed.

She might have screamed her name - she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she was rushing forward, trying to catch Angel before she fell and hit the floor. Her one Kin, the one she loved before all others, collapsed in front of her eyes, falling to her knees and pitching forward. She slid to a stop right in front of her and caught her right before she was about to hit the ground, and gently, so, so gently, lowered her there.

"Angel?" She asked, her voice a hoarse croak.

Her Angel didn't answer. She laid there, cold and still, her wings dull, and her feathers splayed about them, like some dead bird.

She shook her.

"Angel. Angel!"

Still, her beloved Angel did not respond. She just laid there, every single one of her eyes closed.

"_She's dead,_" The girl in her mind said, "_Mama's dead, and she's not coming back._"

It was true. It was as true as the fact that she was still human.

She screamed then, getting to her feet and backpedaling away, covering her eyes with her hands to block out the sight.

Angel was dead.

_No! Angel. Angel! _ANGEL!

Hands fell over her, forcing her to the ground, but she hardly noticed. Rough bindings wrapped around her wrists and ankles, and the humans began to tie up the rest of her, making movement impossible. hatred filled her, just as potent as her grief, and she lashed out, trying to bit the fingers of one of the insects that had captured her.

Something hard smacked against her head in retaliation, and he snatched his hands away, robbing her of the pleasure.

Consciousness began to escape from her, but even then, she could feel the tears crawling down her cheeks.

In her head, she heard the girl heave a sigh.

"_Looks like I didn't die after all. . ._"

For once in her life, she couldn't find it in herself to snap back.

She welcomed the darkness, as it finally brought her solace from the grief and rage.

* * *

The first time Cyra had awoken, she'd done so screaming.

The monstrous part of her ripped and tore at her brain, intent on killing her before she could so much as lift a finger.

_No!_ She'd screamed, _it's not fair! Everything I love was taken from me! It's not _FAIR!

Whoever was caring for her had put her back to sleep, wisely, and Cyra had sunk back into the depths. The monster had no desire to relinquish her hold on Cyra's body. She wanted to remain in control. In the darkness, the pair of them had fought with one another, and Cyra had nearly been overpowered before the monster girl grew tired and decided to stop the fight. They had retreated to separate corners in the blackness, glaring at each other over the distance.

The second time Cyra had woken up, she'd fought, tooth and nail, to remain conscious.

She'd seen lights. Shapes of humans. _People_.

The monster girl had snarled and ripped at her. One voice had urged her to fight, to keep fighting, and she'd amended to do just that. The humans had put her back to sleep again, after an agonizingly long battle that had ended in a draw.

And that was where they were now.

Cyra stared at the monster. She'd seated herself on the floor and kept a wary eye on the figure crouched, golden eyes downcast.

"_Pain waits for you_," The monster girl said, ending the long silence between them, "_If you wake up again, you'll only remember pain_."

A bitter laugh escaped from Cyra.

"Not likely. The Kin stripped our - _my _memories, remember? I don't remember anything, anymore. And I'll never try to."

Those golden eyes snapped up at her, pinning her with a glare, but Cyra just sat there and returned it with a cool stare of her own.

"_I'll never leave you. I'm a part of you. The better part._"

"You're a selfish bitch, that's what you are."

She straightened, standing up, and the monster girl eyes her wearily, muscles tensing.

"_We're two halves of the same whole, stupid human. You're a part of me, and I'm a part of you_." The last part was said with so much disgust and contempt that Cyra almost laughed again.

"That's true. But it's my turn now. You get to stay here and brood over everything. I'm going to wake up now. And if you fight me, I swear to all of the True Kin, I will grab the first sharp thing I see and stab myself with it."

The monster girl jumped to her feet, snarling and growling, but Cyra only stared at her. A few moments later, the fight left her in a defeated slump, and she turned away from the human, facing the darkness.

"_I don't care anymore. I'll always be here. . . I miss Angel_."

"I miss her, too. She looked like Mama. . ."

"_Thought you said we didn't have any memories?_"

"We don't," Cyra said, "Angel looked just like her, though. I'm sure of it. So. Are you going to try and shred me to pieces again, or do I have to make good on my threat? You are a piss poor conversationalist."

The monster girl didn't answer, and kept her back to Cyra. Eventually, she took this as a good sign, and closed her eyes.

Almost immediately, her mind drifted back to her body in a lazy, slow spiral.

Moments later, she was there, lying on a cot, covered with a thin hospital blanket, and listening to the annoyingly loud sound of _beep beep _coming from the heart rate monitor. She waited, precious moments ticking by, before she eventually opened her eyes. She expected the monster inside of her to bite and claw and tear and scream, as she had in the past, but. . . Nothing happened. She couldn't even feel her. A sigh of relief escaped from her, and she moved, sitting up.

She was in a single room - a one-way window separated her from the world, and a locked door was the only exit to and from the room.  
The light above it flashed a solid green, and it beeped, before it swung open. An orderly filed in the room, trailed closely by three soldiers. Guns were carried with the clear, nonverbal threat - _move, and we shoot_.

The orderly looked at her, eyes taking in her appearance.

"Are you in control?" He asked, his voice deadpan.

For some reason, it made her want to laugh. It really did.

_No, I'm the farthest from control I'll ever have_.

Choking back the giggle that threatened to bubble up from her throat, she nodded her head.

The orderly opened his mouth, but there came a small shuffling noise from behind him, and another man, older, with a head of white-hair, and a small pair of glasses pushed up onto his nose, shoved his way into the room.

"Doctor-" One of the soldiers said, but he gave a muted curse in another language.

"No, that is quite enough. Leave this room, before you scare the poor child to death."

Scared? No, she wasn't scared. It was a kind gesture, however, and she appreciated it all the same. The soldiers hesitated, but eventually two of them filed out.

"One soldier in the room at all times, Dr. Malikov," The orderly said, before the elderly man could say anything, "Blake's orders."

Dr. Malikov said something in that language a second time before he turned to her, and seemingly unafraid, approached her bedside.

The orderly and the soldier tensed, as though expecting her to leap off of the bed and act like a ravenous beast. . . Which wasn't too far off the mark, given her time spent with the Kin. . . She tamped down on the unpleasant memories as the doctor came to stand beside her.

"Now then. I've been informed to take you immediately to Commander Blake for questioning when you woke, but I need to make sure that you're in stable condition before that happens. So, child, tell me: can you remember anything?"

Nothing but blackness greeted her. She remembered snippets of her time in captivity with the Kin. She didn't want to express that to him, though. She had a feeling he wouldn't understand what it would be like to be strapped into the backseat of your mind while someone else drove your body around. The feelings of frustration and helplessness were almost too much to describe. She shook her head, casting her eyes down to her hands.

IV needles and other wires had been taped to her skin, so many in number it unnerved her.

She jumped in surprise when Dr. Malikov placed a hand on her own, and she looked at him, worried about his reaction.

To her surprise, she discovered he was smiling patiently.

"It is to be expected. Not all of the Sentinels remember the entirety of their lives before the infection - and from what I understand, you are a severe case. Let's start with something easier, then. Do you remember your name?"

She nodded her head, "Cyra. My name is Cyra."

"Well, then, Cyra," He said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, "Welcome back to the world."


End file.
